


Belief in the impossible

by Malkenna



Series: The Impossibility Complex [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC Cinematic Universe, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Gen, Love Triangles, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkenna/pseuds/Malkenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Impossible what does the word even mean? It's a word that such limitations shatters dreams and encourages you to accept everyone else's version of reality. Impossible really isn't as grounded in reality, as everyone might have you believe. As Barry Allen, the fastest man alive, and his city have quickly discovered. As Barry discovers in the form of a girl who is his... His 17-year-old... Follow his struggles to accept his new role, as  a ... And a new hero as he fights to protect her, his family, his friends and his city from the man in the yellow suit as well as get justice for his mother. The first step in beating The Impossibility Complex, believe in the impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Greatest Impossibility Is Being Impossible Itself

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of “the impossible is possible.” One I will be continuing, before we jump in there is some groundwork that needs to be explained, that I never explained in the first one. This story is set in season one of the flash, this first chapter takes place during episode three,” Things you can’t out run.” Secondly, Barry will be slightly out of character, how you ask you will see! Harrison Wells is still his evil self. Thirdly, this is mostly Canon, but there will be a few sharp surprise twists. Fourth, if you want me to update faster review telling me how much you like it or not. Suggestions are welcome. Tell me anything you would like to see or not see!

Chapter 1: Impossible Is the Greatest Impossibility of All  
I sit at the table in this crowded fancy restaurant with my family listening to my dad tell the story of how he got my mom to go out on a first date with him. It takes everything in my power, not to burst out laughing hysterically at my father’s over dramatic retelling of the events. That’s my father class clown turned CEO of Kelsey drive industries. My father’s company is one of the top technology industries in the world.  
We are here to celebrate the anniversary of my adoption or my Got you day, every single year my parents make a big deal out of this event. They both take off work I get to skip school (my favorite part). We go shopping, go to a movie do anything I like and then go to the fanciest restaurant in town, and eat dinner and I get a huge slice of cake to myself. I wish they wouldn’t make such a big fuss out of me, but at the same time I kind of like it. I am finishing my food and listening to dad tell stories of his glory days, drawing blood from my lips and sitting on my hands to avoid a full out laugh attack. Mom just smiles and rolls her eyes every few minutes when dad starts the story of the time he put a snake in his high school principal’s office. I know I am sunk, but to my surprise, it is my mother who breaks first, her warm laughter filling the room. I join in, and the laughter becomes a cackling, we are receiving looks from all over the room but mom and I don’t care, and from the looks of dad, he doesn’t either. It is only after our waiter comes back with the bill and tells us that we have to leave do we realize what we have done. We’ve gotten kicked out of the restaurant.  
Dad holds the door for us as I drive out in my wheelchair out into the cold air. The three of us are still completely absorbed in laughter until we hear “good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Ross" being said in a voice that sounds like a computerized AI instead of human. Wait a second. I know that voice, but no, it can’t be him, he is not real.  
My parents turn around to face him quickly, I on the other hand, turn around as slowly as possible, barely moving my joystick controller on my power wheelchair. I don’t know why but I don’t want to see who is on the other side, but it’s not like I can stand here indefinitely until he goes away and the fact that he is stopped talking makes me guess that he won’t continue until I turn around, so I should just turn around. Okay, here it goes, three… two… one.  
I freeze the second I see him, my blood has turned to ice water. My invisible monster, the one that used to hide me in my nightmares. The man in the yellow suit. I can’t see his eyes, but I feel the weight of his focused unbroken gaze on me. “Hello, Mallory, it’s nice to see you again.” This is impossible. He is a figment of my imagination. Nothing more, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself as I’m trying to break out of the sugar induced hallucination.  
“I’m confused. Do we know you?" My mother asked the man. I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to tell her to stop because I know that wherever this is going, it’s not going to be good.  
My bad feeling is confirmed when he moves with incredible speed to where my mother is standing. There is only inches between them. “Mallory has to pay.” He states simply his voice booming and shaking with fury. This is just like the dream which means what’s going to come next is going to be ugly very extremely ugly.  
“Pay for what?” My mother asks staring him directly in the face, not moving, not backing down. Her lips are pursed, but she is meeting his even gaze with a firm stare, the one she only uses when she’s especially angry. My heart starts beating faster and faster, she takes a step closer. They are even “tell me exactly what my daughter has to pay for” he is quiet a small smirk playing on his lips as he shakes his head. My mother does not let up the intensity of her gaze, if anything, it increases drop it, just drop it. I silently pray, knowing that the only way this will and is with him getting what he wants, but I can hope and pray that it doesn’t involve anyone else just me. However, my prayers do not seem to get the answer. I was hoping for, as my mother utters a firm command “now!"  
As I hear her command hang in the cool night air, and seem to echo and reverberate across every square inch of the street, clarity hit me like a bullet in my brain. This was all about my father, my other father, the one we never mention at least not out loud. The one that we all forgot about. When I was little, I would pretend I would make believe and imagine what he was like, you see one of the beauties of not knowing is they can be anything you want them to be. For years I dreamed and imagined, and had reoccurring nightmares about a man in a yellow suit and my dad. I eventually grew up and my fantasies slowly faded away as I accepted reality. I moved on, I became a big girl. I let the past go however, seeing the man in the yellow suit tonight made it abundantly undoubtedly, and earth shatteringly clear that I haven’t forgotten anything.  
“My dad.” I say breaking the long heavy silence. It effectively cuts through it like a knife. The way my mom is staring at my dad with anger and confusion makes me want to clarify “my other dad,” I say quickly as if it is a curse word, fearing my parent’s reaction as well as my own. My parents look betrayed and horrified at the same time. It is incredibly painful for them to hear and for me say, but that is the clear truth.  
Their reaction is what I expect. I am not however prepared for the man in the yellow suit’s reaction. He laughs and smiles slightly. “Congratulations Mrs. Ross, your daughter is clever, very clever.” He tells her before taking a step back half a millisecond later he is in front of me. “Just like I remember you. You are always exactly how I remember you.” He says. A smile, mixed with a smirk plays on his face as he puts his hand gently on my cheek almost lovingly as he uses his hand to make me turn my head so he can examine it. After he has seen both sides, and it from almost every angle he can without hurting me. He smirks and whispers, “perfect" smugly, “always perfect.” He repeats.  
He backs away from me, “Mallory. I truly wish you were not a part of this, that you did not have to be a part of this.” He says, and sighs sadly. “However you are a part of your father, a part of his legacy, and that makes you very much a part of it." He says, pointing at me. “And I bet you’re wondering why don’t I just kill you.” He continues, I wasn’t thinking about that until now. “The answer is because I can’t I can’t kill you because your father needs you to be the something that he will fight for and I need him to do that because I need him to get home. I need Barry Allen to be a hero so as much as I’d love to kill you and your father. I can’t." He explains to me. My question is why do bad guys always monologue.  
"Do you understand?” I nod. “Good.” He says, before his smile turns sinister. “I can however cause you a great deal of pain.” He says as he steps closer to me. He pulls out a knife which I have no idea where he had that in that suit. He takes the blade and presses it ever so lightly against my cheek, “I could stab you in so many different ways. He says. “But I’m not going to do that.” He puts a rag on my cheek to wipe away the blood. “I’m going to do something much worse sweetheart, hold that there.” He instructs me. I do as I am told, then he says, “emotional pain is always worse.” And with that he takes a knife and stabs my mother in the stomach.  
He returns to me. I start to cry, “it’s okay sweetheart, come on, be a big girl.” He says as he stabs me in the back wonderful new scars to go over my old ones! “Sweetheart you don’t look well at all. How about you let me carry you to see your daddy?" He patronizes me with a laugh  
The last thing I see is his face in the mask.  
Cisco’s point of view  
"Barry, we’ve got a confirmed sighting of a yellow suit on Alastair and Ninth.” I say into the intercom." The man in the yellow suit has been our number one target since Barry became The Flash because he killed Barry’s mother, but this is the first time we’ve actually had a confirmed sighting. Barry is already out on account of The Mist showing up. Caitlin is in the other part of the building, studying some thermonuclear fusion notes to determine how this will affect the environment of Central City in the following years, and Dr. Wells left for coffee about 20 minutes ago. Which leaves me on monitor duty. The man in the yellow suit has left “27 and Grayson" I update him. “71 and Godfree " I say. Wait a second, it almost looks like what the frack?! He’s coming here! “Umm... Barry he’s coming here,” I say, trying not to show the panic in my voice, but it wasn’t working. My voice went up the whole octave.  
“What? How? Are you sure? Why?” Barry asks sounding frustrated and confused.  
“I don’t know man,” I say honestly panic rising in my voice. “Just hurry up and get here by my calculations, you’ve got…" I am so bad at mental calculations. I can never figure them out.  
“Zero seconds" I hear a voice say behind me. I turn around and scream. He laughs. “Hello Cisco" no way he did not just say my name. How does he know my name?  
“Chill dude, why are you here?" He gives me a look like I don’t have the authority to ask him that question and my “macho man" superhero persona crumbles and quickly raise my hands above my head, and assume the classic “surrender” position. “Don’t hurt me.” I beg, “please,” I say embarrassed and feeling very much like a coward.  
He laughs. “Get down on the floor.” He orders and I do as I’m told, “interlace your fingers.” He orders again and they do as I’m told he laughs again. This time however it is much warmer. “Cisco, relax. I am only here to drop something off.” He says, through the laughter. I lift my head to see a young woman in his arms, she is completely still in his arms., her pale skin the color of porcelain, her long, curly hair was the color of melted dark chocolate, her lips were red. She was wearing a white lace dress silently he lays her beside me. She is the classic embodiment of Snow White, but instead of being poisoned with an apple, she has been stabbed with a knife. The knife is in her back, more specifically the knife is in her shoulder blade. The man in the yellow suit kneels down beside her. He grabs the hilt of the knife, oh please don’t tell me he’s going to I think to myself and with one fluid motion, he yanks it out of her. Her eyes open and she screams. I have never heard a scream like that in my life, as more blood comes out of the wound staining her dress.  
He leaves her and walks over to me. “I bet you’re wondering who she is, aren’t you?" I nod slowly he smiles before turning to face the girl. His eyes wander across her body before resting on her eyes, he kneels beside her and touches her cheek. She looks up at him with just a hint of fear. He gently takes his thumb and runs it across her cheek. “This beautiful girl is Barry Allen’s daughter.” He says, turning back to face me with a satisfied smirk at my dumbfounded expression. It can’t be that’s not possible. He is too young to have a daughter that old. I think to myself.  
“That’s not possible. You are lying to me, that’s biologically impossible.” I stammer out loud.  
He smirks, “Cisco you live in a world with two men that are faster than the speed of light. A man that can control the weather, and a man that can turn himself into a toxic mist. Nothing is impossible.” He says, before breaking into hysterical laughter. This guy is totally a deranged mentally unstable psychopath, but he does have a point. “But believe whatever you want, test her DNA against his, and it will prove I’m not lying.”  
“Let’s say that hypothetically, I believe you how did this happen?” I ask. I’m intrigued that that the prospect might be true.  
He rolls his eyes. “That’s for you to figure out, “he says dryly, he bows mockingly towards me before continuing, “now if you will excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be, plans to make Cisco, big plans, but this was fun, we will have to do it again sometime” He says sinisterly he faces the door and looks back at the girl on the floor who is presumably Barry’s daughter. “And please do tell, Mallory, that I am very sorry” he says in a tone that makes me almost believe him before he speeds out of room.  
Five minutes later, Caitlin and Dr. Wells show up. “What happened, why are you on the floor and who is the girl?” They both ask me, as soon as they see the situation in front of them.  
Giving them the answers to all those questions would take too long. “Long story, all you need to know is her name is Mallory and she needs our help.” I say. The longer I thought about the man in the yellow suit explanation of who she was the more sense it made. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time.  
“Okay, the first thing we need to do is get her off the floor. Can you help me with that?” She asks directing her question at me. I nod as I get off the floor myself. I bend down and lift her as carefully as I can, not wanting to hurt Barry’s daughter because something tells me he will be a very protective dad, especially when he finds out who did this to her. I’m pretty sure the man in the yellow suit, just signed his own death warrant. I place her in the bed. Caitlin looks satisfied, “perfect now you can explain the long story to Dr. Wells and I while I take care.” I really was hoping I could wait to relive that trauma until later, but okay, sure great. Let’s relive that traumatic event that just happened.  
I take a deep breath and walk into the center of the room. "Since you all ditched me. I was all alone on monitor duty.” I say melodramatically I hear laughing and turn my head to the side to see Caitlin and Dr. wells rolling their eyes at me. “Anyway, I heard from the police radio that there was a confirmed sighting of the man in the yellow suit” I can tell by the amount of silence in the room that I have successfully gotten their attention satisfied with that I continue my story “so I told Barry and tracked the man in the yellow suit as I was tracking him, I began to realize that the pattern he was moving in meant he was coming here, I told Barry. The man in the yellow suit showed up with her in his arms he laid her down, since some really creepy totally super villain type stuff told me who she was and then left.” I say, omitting the part where I screamed like a girl and begged for my life.  
"Well, the stabbing would explain the lacerations on her shoulder, but it doesn’t account for the three other scars on her back that appear to be from a knife of some sort. They are 10 years old at least or the one form what I’m assuming is a gun in the middle of her sternum. Bottom line, it looks like she’s been in a lot of high intensity situations, most of which ended with her receiving some kind of physical injury." Caitlin says, sounding very doctor like “by the way who is she? You said he told you but you never said who she was.” She reminds me.  
I freeze there is no way the man in the yellow suit was telling the truth, right? It’s true, we live in a world full of impossible stuff and things that could definitely be classified as “abnormal.” But this could be it’s too crazy. It’s not even our version of normal and yes, before you ask, I do recognize that many saying something is way too out there being hypocritical, but it’s just not true! What’s next pigs flying? Wait a second, that would be really cool. “I have no idea.” I say, because truly in what world where the alternative make sense.  
“But you said.” Caitlin starts reminding me, she is a really good listener, which makes lying to her really hard and this situation very annoying.  
“I know what I said, Caitlin, but I forgot just drop it. Okay,” I say hotly wanting to forget about the whole situation.  
At that moment Barry flashes into the room. “Hey guys, I’m sorry it took so long on my way back here. I stumbled upon scene of a stabbing and then I had to call Joe and Eddie and wait for them to arrive so I could give my statement and do my forensic science thing and then get back here.” He says quickly, completely oblivious to what is going on and then he slows down when he realizes that Caitlin and I are arguing about something. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did he hurt you?” Barry asked suddenly concerned, Caitlin and I shake our heads no, he relaxes, but only slightly. “Then what is it?” Caitlin and I turn to look at the girl who is still unconscious Barry follows our line of sight and finds her “who is she?” He asks, sounding confused and worried.  
I let Caitlin answer that one. “We don’t know.” She says simply, before adding, “The Man in the Yellow Suit dropped her off and she had been stabbed, presumably by him.” She finishes her account of the events. The mention of The Man in the Yellow Suit earns an immediate reaction from Barry. “He brought her here?” Caitlin nodded, not wanting to repeat the information again. He looks frustrated. “And we don’t know who she is?” Once again, Caitlin nodded yes I could see his frustration increasing “but it doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t just kidnap and stab a random girl and bring her here, we need to find out who she is.” I agree that he wouldn’t just do this sort of thing to a random girl. It’s not his style. And I can tell by Caitlin’s expression that she agrees.  
“We will Mr. Allen, I promise. But first you have to calm down and stop hitting things.” Dr. Wells says gently and calmly to Barry, who takes a deep breath and nods.  
“Okay, Dr. Wells, I’m sorry I will try to avoid hitting things from now on.” Barry apologizes for his outburst.  
“It’s quite all right, Barry, all is forgiven.” Dr. Wells says smiling, a melancholy smile at him.  
Barry’s phone rang. “Hey Joe... What?! Okay, thanks.” Barry says as he hangs up. “The victims of the stabbing were Duane and Marie Ross as in Duane Ross of Kelsey Drive Industries, and apparently they had a daughter named Mallory, who is missing and matches her description.” Barry states, “but that still doesn’t explain why he took her and attacked them. It’s never been about the money for him, at least not to my knowledge anyway.” He finishes, sounding slightly broken.  
“I’ll check state records to see what I can find. Maybe she’s connected to him in some other way that we will be able to find there.” I offer Barry nods slowly within 20 seconds I am in the state ‘s computer system, which concern me but at the same time makes me proud of myself. Once I get to the Rosses records. I find a multitude of police reports that either list Mallory as the main witness for the prosecution or a victim. It would take me an eternity to read all them and I don’t have that kind of time on my hands, Barry needs answers so I elect to ignore all of them, at least for now and click on the most interesting thing I see on the screen. Her adoption record “it might be nothing but it might be something she was adopted immediately after she was born. The only problem is that it is a closed adoption so I can’t see to her parents are or were her real parents. I mean,” I say triumphantly at the fact that I may have got something.  
“All parents are real parents.” Dr. Wells says scolding me.  
“I could perform a DNA test.” Caitlin volunteers getting up from her seat and grabbing a needle. “I need to do a blood test, anyway.” Caitlin adds as she takes the sample from Mallory and putting it in the machine.  
Barry’s point of View.  
I get up and walk over to Mallory standing at the foot of the bed. “Why you?! Who are you?!” I ask her quietly hear her only response is the rise and fall of her breathing and I smile a little. She is pretty and she’s probably nice. She doesn’t deserve this, a machine beeps and it pulls me from my thoughts. “Time to find out who you are Mallory” I say to her Caitlin reads the results and throws them in the trash says something about the machine malfunctioning runs the test again. She read the results throws them in the trash again and runs the test yet again by the fourth time this cycle repeats. I say “Caitlin stop it. It’s obviously not the machine. If you keep getting the same results.”  
I’ve done it now she storms into the room with the results in her hand. “But these results don’t make any sense. They say that you’re the father!” she exclaims practically throwing the results into my hands.  
“What?!” I say. She just points down at the papers in my hands authoritatively. Sure enough, there it is in big black letters Barry Allen, 50% match, Nora Allen, 25% match. This means I am a father, more specifically, her father. That’s what this means. And I know what this means, but how is this true, but it doesn’t make any sense, at least by normal standards, and if I’m being honest, it really doesn’t make sense by anyone’s standards. I mean there’s only a 10-year age gap, maybe even less, but I have the proof right here in my hand. Still, it does not make the truth any easier to digest. I am a father, but what does that mean, I have not ever really thought about that before having kids being a dad. I mean, I’m 25 years old. I just got out of college and got a job 2 years ago! Luckily I don’t have too much debt because I got a scholarship and Joe helped pay for the rest, but I have still not been in a stable, long-term relationship with anyone ever. Plus, there’s the fact that I still live with Joe, and am a superhero by night. I mean, sure, I sort of had an idea that I wanted to get married to Iris, and have kids, after my Flash days were over, but that was years and years and years away. Yet here she is in front of me, it is overwhelming, but I know this is real. This is my reality.  
“Barry, are you okay” I hear Caitlin call, followed by Cisco and Dr. Wells.  
I break out of my thoughts and nod slowly beginning to move “yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a lot to process” I say as I make my way to one of the chairs in the center of the room. “I’m a dad.” I say, laughing slightly at the absurdity of the situation. “And I don’t know who or how or why this is possible and I certainly don’t know why I find this funny.” I say honestly before I began laughing again.  
“Yes, you are Mr. Allen and I have a theory that is quite possibly the answer to all your questions. However, on a more serious note, we have something far more serious to discuss. Are you going to keep her or not?” Dr. Wells says, and I realize that I hadn’t thought about it that part the logistical part. What that means for me and for her, for my life and hers was I going to keep her? How could I not? But at the same time, how could I? Whenever decision I made it would change my life, even if I do not keep her. I can’t imagine just ignoring the fact that I have the daughter, “the decision is yours. Barry, but I do think that you should take care of her, to avoid another incident like today with what happened to her parents,” I thought about it and I thought about it some more.  
"Barry, you look like you're going to have a panic attack! "Cisco remarks I nod.  
I don’t know what to do. Everything is happening all at once. I can’t leave her, because if anything was to happen to her or anyone else protecting her, I couldn’t live with one more person dying because of me. This is what I feel I should do. I just feel strange doing it, and feeling so protective of this girl. I don’t know how I’m going to do this logistically; I know it needs to be done. There is no alternative option “I’m going to call my dad.” I announce I literally have no idea why I announced it. I walk out of the main room and into the hallway. My hands start to shake a little as I dialed my dad’s number. I’m nervous as it rings. I began to quickly realize that this is probably not the best conversation to have over the telephone, especially if he is with Eddie, his partner, hey dad, I just wanted to let you know that I have a daughter that is 10 years younger than me, probably because of some weird speedforce effects. She happens to be the daughter of the victims of the case are currently working on, and probably witnessed the whole thing and since she is my daughter. That means she’s technically, your granddaughter, so yeah, you’re a grandfather. Congratulations. I guess.  
Nope, that is totally not happening over the phone before I can hang up. He answers, “Barry, where are you, you left the station an hour ago are you hurt?” My dad questions me anxiously.  
“Dad, I am at Star labs and everything is fine. Well, “I say, trying to reassure him that remain truthful at the same time.  
“What’s with the ish. I don’t like the ish” my dad remarks in his completely serious concerned voice that I heard a lot of as a kid and hear even more now that I’m a superhero.” Your voice is shaking; you are really nervous. I haven’t heard you this nervous since you and Iris wrapped my brand-new sports car around a tree when you were 16. Do you have any idea how worried that makes me?” Dad says to me with a hint of humor in his voice.  
“Can you come to Star labs?” I ask the anxiety slowly rising in my voice. “I don’t think we should do this conversation over the phone.” I add quickly  
“I am leaving right now. I will be there in 15 minutes and then we’ll talk about whatever it is that’s got you so nervous. Please don’t tell me you wrapped another car around a tree.” Dad says, his voice is dripping with worry and sarcasm.  
“Okay, that’s great. I love you dad. See you soon.” I say as I hang up and then head back to the main room and sit down in a chair opposite Dr. Wells. “I believe you owe me an explanation,” I say calmly sitting back in my chair crossing my arms as I eagerly await the answer to a question that seems to constantly reoccur since I began my life as a superhero what the heck is going on?  
I watch as Dr. Wells readjusts his glasses. “um. Well, Mr. Allen. It’s not an entirely concrete explanation. I mean, since I have new data. I can’t be for sure that my hypothesis is correct. It’s just a theory pure speculation on my part.” Dr. Wells says somewhat nervously glancing from me to my daughter, back at me for a spilt second and once again to her as he mutters something indistinguishable under his breath.  
This confuses me momentarily. “Dr. Wells, how did this happen?” He looks at me with a set of blank eyes and an expression of melancholy bitterness as if he’d just swallowed acid. “Theoretically, I mean,” I add.  
His expression does not change, but his eyes are no longer blank they are softer, but seem sadder, “how this occurred is because you can time travel or at least you will be able to at some point in the future.” He pauses and waits for me to process the information I nod, he continues, “you saw two men the night your mother died one man was the man in the yellow suit and I’m speculating the other one was you, you from the present or the future. That’s evidence that shows you will have the ability to go back in time.” He says, another pause before he continues, “as far as I can tell you will at some point in time, go back to the year 1998, do the baby-making thing with a woman, then travel back to the year that you came from the baby will be born and adopted by the Rosses and life will continue normally for both her and you until the events that lead to here, any questions, Mr. Allen?”  
I nod. “How come I don’t remember any of this?” I ask him very confused, but very intrigued by this prospect.  
A look of apprehension is clearly displayed in his eyes like his mind is waging war on whether or not to tell me the information which I seek after what feels like a prolonged period of silence a sense of duty and obligation sets heavily into his eyes. “The circuit hypothesis” he says quickly in the way you would spit out spoiled food, or poison. “I’m assuming from that look on your face. You have no idea what I’m talking about,” I nod to tell him that he is correct. He takes a deep breath, like explaining this to me is going to be like running a marathon. He approaches the board. “The circuit hypothesis is a theory of quantum physics that states, time is not linear. It is a loop or circuit the circuit stars in continues to in a clockwise direction in which each event directly influences the next and so on. And if at any point in time there is a change in the circuit, the circuit will continue to progress normally until it catches up to the point in which the circuit was changed. This also makes changing the future or the past extremely difficult because if you change one event, it changes the next event and with no possible way to predict the new pattern of events, you lose any advantage you may have.” He finishes his explanation of theory and then comes back to sit beside me.  
I lean back in my chair, trying to process the whirlwind that has come at me nonstop today, all I can do is think and contemplate and try to combat the millions of questions in my head that are demanding answers most of which I have none to give, I sit there, motionless having a silent conversation with myself asking questions of which I have no answers over and over pretty much the definition of insanity. Suddenly I hear a familiar voice. “Barry,” it snaps me out of that never-ending conversation with myself. I see my dad sitting in a chair directly facing me.  
“I’m sorry dad, I just got a little distracted.” I apologize quickly to my dad.  
My dad laughs. “I can see that and I’m assuming it has something to do with the reason you called me down here and the reason you’ve the Rosses daughter in a hospital bed.” He says, gesturing to Mallory, “am I correct in assuming that?” My dad asks looking at me expectantly awaiting my answer.  
I take a deep breath before answering, “That’s partially it, but I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that.” My dad raises an eyebrow and looks at me impatiently waiting for me to continue. “I didn’t bring her here,” I pause unsure how to proceed because he has never really been receptive to the idea of the man in the yellow suit. “He did,”  
“But you said the blood’s spatter pattern was made by someone carrying her away from the crime scene at an abnormally fast speed. There’s another one?” I nod and then go to the computer and pull up the security camera footage we watch it together in silence. When The Man in the Yellow Suit appears I pause the footage and zoom in on him and the fact that he is holding Mallory makes me a little sick inside. “Okay, so now the Bogeyman exists.” My dad says in a sarcastic tone. “I guess I owe you an apology son, I’m sorry” he says in a sincere tone of voice. “I’m going to reopen your mom’s murder investigation, when I get back to the station and we can work it together this time, I promise.” I can hear the honesty and shame in his voice.  
“Apology accepted, and dad, don’t beat yourself up. You are cop. It’s your job to look for concrete evidence, and to be honest until the past two months I started doubting myself too.” I say honestly, not wanting him to feel guilty for what happened. He doesn’t need that and honestly, neither do I.  
“Thank you Barry.” He says reflectively, before sighing and looking over at Mallory. “You think the cases are connected?” He asks, harmlessly I remain silent nervously contemplating how to tell me my dad something I myself do not fully understand. “Bear, you have wrecked sports car face. What is it? You can tell me.” My dad says worryingly, trying to encourage me to tell him.  
I take a deep breath. “Dad, remember when I told you that it was a little bit complicated.” Dad nods patiently waiting for me to continue. “I may have underestimated the complexity of the situation.” I say with a nervous laugh.  
“Go on, son, there’s nothing that can surprise me anymore.” He says encouragingly, even though I highly doubt that this will not surprise him.  
“I’m her dad.” I say with some effort, and noticeable hesitation. My dad has a look of utter disbelief on his face. I reach for the DNA results, once I find them. I look at them for a moment, then pass them to him.  
“These are DNA results”, he says absentmindedly as he scans them briefly and when he reaches the middle of the page, his mouth drops open “you are her dad.” He says, almost dropping the results in the process. “But... But you’re not old enough to have a daughter that old. She’s 16 and you are 25. That’s only nine years and a nine-year-old can’t have a kid.” He says, at a loss for words. My dad has had the most trouble adjusting to the realm of the crazy, upside down doesn’t make conventional sense, that is, our new normal. “How did this happen? “He asks, straightforward and direct looking like he is preparing to be totally, completely and utterly lost.  
I give him an uncertain nervous smile. “Time travel” I say fully aware of how absurd it sounds.  
I am about to explain how this works when he holds up his hand to stop me. “Barry, you can stop. I don’t want the details. I don’t need them.” He says firmly before adding, “if my world gets any more science fiction in it. I’m going to have to call you the Starship Enterprise.” We both start laughing and my dad stands up and walks over to Mallory, who is still unconscious in the bed. “Barry, you know what you have to do right” he says, looking from her to me. I shake my head. “You have to take care of her. You have to be a dad.” He says with what can only be described as absolute certainty.  
I look at him. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t think I’m ready to be a dad.” I say in frustration.  
My dad gives me an understanding smile and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Barry, I may not understand a lot of the science and mechanics behind what makes the world so much different now.” He pauses for second and laughs. “Okay if I’m being truthful, I understand none of it. But I do know this, you have always been a protector, you have always been looking for someone to save, it’s you. You have always loved that’s who you are who you have always been, and that’s all a dad really is someone who protects, someone who loves, someone who a person can turn to. No matter what a parent is always there for the child, it’s already inside of you. You have everything you need and honestly, no one is ever prepared to be a parent, but I’ve seen you step up before when the city needed a hero you were there hero and you are you’ve pushed yourself to the limit and beyond because they needed you to just like she needs to right now. Barry, she lost her mother and her father and I don’t need to tell you how much hurts because you know, because you lived it. And do you honestly think there’s anyone who can protect her from The Man in the Yellow Suit better than you?” With that, my dad concludes one of his famous pep talks.  
“You are right about everything, as usual.” I mumble to him, slightly aggravated at the fact that he is so good and gets almost everything right all the time.  
Dad smiles and laughs. “Give it a few years, you’ll get there too.” He looks at my daughter for a second and then back at me and smirks, “especially with a daughter.”  
Wait a second, what does that mean? That question is quickly shaken off and replaced by a new one. Why hasn’t she woken up yet? She was brought here almost 2 hours ago, she should be awake by now, so why isn’t she? “Cait,” I say. My voice asks a silent question.  
“I don’t know, Barry, I’ve been monitoring her heart rate, breathing and pulse oxygen levels and everything is stable. There’s no physical reason why she should be unconscious.” Caitlin says matter-of-factly, like a doctor, but there is an obvious level of sympathy.

“Not helping Caitlin,” I say under my breath, I don’t know what I’m feeling or what I'm supposed to feel or do with nothing left to do and feeling utterly confused by today’s events. I reluctantly come to the conclusion that there is nothing that I can do except sit in a chair and wait.  
We sit in a very uncomfortable silence filled with tension that you can almost feel until my dad says, “just so we’re clear, you and Mallory are welcome to live with me at the house .” He says, turning to me before pausing ever so slightly. “I mean the house is pretty much accessible except for the bedrooms upstairs, which I’m sure won’t be a problem because you can carry her. “My dad instantly recognizes my uncomprehending expression “oh, Barry, you didn’t know did you?” My dad’s voice is full of sympathy a look of instant regret plays on his face as I slowly shake my head. My dad takes a deep breath and looks me directly in the eyes. “Mallory is in a wheelchair, Barry, due to medical malpractice when she was born.”  
“How bad is it?” I say, my voice shaking slightly with anger, fear and tension as yet another wave of new information floods my already highly confused brain. I look at her so much has happened in the past two hours and she is oblivious to it. At least I’ve had some time to digest what exactly has occurred and it has not hit all at once like it will for her, probably with the force of an atomic bomb.  
“She’s partially paralyzed, meaning she can walk, but her movement from the waist down is highly restricted and difficult.” My dad tells me point blank.  
My anger turns to sadness, not at her or for me, but for her, I imagine her having to rely on everyone else for everyday things, and it makes me feel sad for her as well as angry at the person that caused it. Not that that changes anything, because I will still protect her and take care of her, if anything, it makes me more determined to keep her safe. The silence sets in once again heavy in the room. My gaze drifts around the room searching it aimlessly until my eyes come to rest on Mallory slowly and with no warning her eyes flutter open, she is awake. She looks around the room. My dad looks at me. “You ready for this,” he asks gently.  
“I’m probably as ready as I ever will be. So yeah, let’s do this.” I say clearly extremely uncertain about the whole thing.  
My father and I walk slowly to her bed. She looks at the both of us. Her eyes wide in a mixture of fear and panic. “Who are you? Where am I? Where did he go? Why am I here?” With that she ends her frenzied barrage of questions, taking in a deep breath of air.  
Joe and I both share a stunned look after what we had just played out right in front of us. Joe quickly sprang into action. “Mallory, I know that she just woke up and you’ve probably seen a lot of bad things tonight and I promise we will answer all your questions. But first you have to calm down.” Joe says in his very calm detective voice.  
She sits there, her body shaking from all the tension that is running through every part of her body. She curls up into a ball. “I just saw my parents get murdered and I wake up in a place where I don’t know where I am. I don’t want to calm down.” She says, her voice quivering because of all the pent-up raw and dangerous emotions that she is experiencing.  
“I know, Mallory, I know, but you’ve got to calm down because this isn’t going to help you and it isn’t going to help us help you. So you have to at least try, okay?” His voice patient and understanding as he waits for her to calm down. Within a few minutes, she calms down. “Good, Mallory” he says, praising her. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way my name is Detective Joe West,” he gets up and points to me. “And this is Barry Allen.”  
Her eyes focus like a laser beam directly in the center of my chest, it is in this moment I have the Flash Suit on and she is staring at the symbol “the Flash, you’re the Flash” she breathes out, still focusing on my symbol “that would mean…” She pauses when she becomes aware that we can hear her. “Oh no, never mind I was wrong.” She finishes quickly, clearly hiding something.  
She looks away and sits perfectly still and remains absolutely silent. I am startled by this new development. What was she about to say? Did he tell her something to make her afraid of me? I carefully move to the side of the bed and cautiously sit down on the bed. “Mallory, what did he tell you?” I get no response. In fact, she won’t even look at me. “Mallory, please talk to me so that I can understand.” I say honestly,  
She looks at me for a brief moment I hold her hand because it seems like the right thing to do. She doesn’t fight me. “Is it true?” She asks me quietly she looks dead “Are you my dad?” She asks in a voice only I can hear. I nod slowly, she looks at me with wide eyes, her face clearly not understanding and personally I don’t blame her. She starts examining my face from nearly every angle and frowns and then does it again. “But you’re so young," she says, clearly highly confused. She makes this face at me, which I have to admit is pretty cute, “how old are you, anyway? 30?” I shake my head. “Lower or higher?” She asks with an inquisitive spark in her eyes I point down at the floor with my free hand. “28?” Once again, I point down shaking my head. “26?” She asks with uncertainty in her voice. I point down. Her face drops “seriously, you can’t be that young.” She says in frustration. I laugh openly and speed over to the desk and grab my wallet and return to Mallory. I pull out my driver’s license and hand it to her. She looks at and then back to me. “You are being serious. You are 25” She exclaims, clearly in shock as she hands it back to me. “I don’t get it, how is this possible?” She inquires looking at me inquisitively.  
“I can move superfast, and apparently I can time travel because of a particle accelerator explosion the night I got struck by lightning.” I explain to her.  
She nods. “With all I’ve seen tonight I am inclined to believe it.” She says, half-jokingly half serious. Before continuing, “I don’t want any more explanation. It’s okay, I believe you. I’ve had enough crazy for one night.  
I nod to signal that I understand. At that moment, Caitlin comes over. “I have to see how you’re healing” she says to Mallory, Mallory sits forward as Caitlin lifts up Mallory’s shirt and removes the bandage to take a look, I stand up to look with her I was clearly not prepared for what I see. The cuts are deep and long. “Luckily. It looks like she inherited your accelerated healing capabilities, otherwise…” Caitlin says, before realizing that Mallory is conscious. She quickly puts her hand on her face.  
“Otherwise I would’ve died.” Mallory says flatly. Caitlin looks at her and starts to apologize. “Don’t worry about it. I am amazed that I didn’t die as well.” She says, offering a tiny smile to Caitlin, who smiles back. The only thing I can think about is the fact that this was with accelerated healing.  
“You can take her home, just make sure to change the bandages every two hours.” Caitlin says, “good luck Barry!” Caitlin calls as I put Mallory in her wheelchair. “I almost forgot, here are her medications and pain medication.” Caitlin says, handing me a baggie of six different medications. I give her a concerned look. “Don’t worry, it’s all her normal stuff and the instructions are on the bottle.” Caitlin says gently as we head out the door.  
“Mallory. There’s one other thing you probably should know.” Joe says, looking at Mallory. She looks at him in return. “I’m Barry’s adoptive father, so technically I’m your grandfather. And you live with me.”  
Mallory nods. “Anything else I should know?” She asks both of us as we get in the car.  
“Probably” we both answer in tandem. “But that’s pretty much the basics we don’t want to give you information overload.”  
She nods. “So where are we going?” Mallory asks from her seat in the car.  
“Well I’m going to get you some food and then we are going to the station for Barry to sign the custody paperwork so he can be all official.” He pauses. “And then we go down to the morgue where you will identify the bodies of your parents and then go back upstairs where you will give official statement to me so I can continue my investigation” Joe finishes.  
I look at him in horror the getting feed part, I’m okay with that, but the my daughter having to identify her parents bodies and give a statement part I’m not okay with “for real Joe, you are really going to make her do that tonight? She just woke up after being stabbed in the back. She can’t do it tomorrow?” I say angrily at him.  
“No, I can’t do it tomorrow.” Mallory’s voice says defiantly. “My guess is the stockholders want the investigation dealt with quickly, so their value doesn’t drop.” She takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’m also assuming you’re under enormous pressure from my family.” She shakes her head. “No doubt my uncles are arguing like mad at the office about who gets to be the next CEO of Kelsey Drive Industries.” The note in her voice is one of pure disgust she folds her arms across her chest.  
Joe and I exchange looks of intrigue and also concern about what would make her say that. We eat at the café, where I ask Mallory about what she would want her new name to be at some point in the conversation. My mother came up and I proceeded to tell, Mallory, all about her. Mallory reminds me so much of her. It’s almost scary. So we decide on the name of Mallory Nora Allen once dinner is over, we head back to the car and go to station.  
We pull up to the station and I get out the car and get her in carefully put her in her wheelchair. Caitlin had bought her a really nice new wardrobe because all of her other clothing items are currently in the evidence lockup because her house is being searched by the police as they try to find out who did it. (We all know who did it, we just can’t say the men in the yellow suit without being locked up ourselves.) She is wearing a white blouse, a black lace skirt, tights and black flats. I told her that it was fine to wear something casual, but she insisted on wearing this, saying she wanted to make a good first impression. Caitlin helped do her hair and surprisingly Joe is pretty good with hair as well. Her hair is down, but clipped with a hair accessory in the back. Mallory starts receiving compliments and looks from younger male policeman. The second we walk in the building, I feel myself throw up in my mouth and I quickly move to walk closer beside her, causing both her and Joe to smile and laugh at me.  
We reach the bullpen, and immediately are met with applause and cheering. “Detective West, Mr. Allen and Miss Ross, join me in my office.” Capt. Singh yells above the applause, which stops almost immediately after he does this, causing Mallory, Joe and I to hurriedly follow him into his office. Once we are all inside his office. He sits down at his desk and points at the door, which has been left ajar noticing his obvious unspoken request I close the door as quickly and as quietly as possible. He gives me a tiny glint of a satisfied smile and a curt nod. “Detective West and Mr. Allen, I don’t know how you managed to find Miss. Ross and I don’t even want to know all that matters is she is alive and she can give us the first credible information on what happened, so we can get our first lead, and hopefully this PR nightmare of a case will be over quickly. So good job Detective West and Mr. Allen.” The captain says, quickly Mallory’s face falls open with a look of complete disbelief at what she just heard. The words so insensitive. I think for a moment that he must have forgotten that she was in the room, until he turns to her, and sighs, “unfortunately for you, my dear, you will be placed in protective custody because your family and your father’s whole entire company is part of an active investigation which means you can’t be in contact with anyone of your former family members, and once again unfortunately for you, due to the fact you are 16. This custody change will probably be permanent.”  
Her bottom lip quivers and she looks at me with pleading eyes, I realize now is my moment. “I want to sign the custody paperwork.” I say. Suddenly, with a burst of energy. Mallory smiles melancholy.  
“Allen? Seriously? Are you serious?” He gawks, staring at me. I nod and smile. He gets the paperwork and a pen and lays them on his desk. “You do realize what this means, right, you will be a father? This is permanent.” He questions me.  
“I know,” I mutter as I grab the pen and sign my name.  
He sits back in his chair, looking clearly amazed at the spectacle playing out in front of him as I pass the pen to Mallory, “and you’re okay with this?” He whispers in amazement.  
“Yes, sir.” She says politely, glancing up at him as she signs her old name on the first line, and her new name on the second. She straightens herself in the wheelchair as she puts down the pen.  
He cast one more look of amazement. This time it is directed at Joe who chuckles at him. “Don’t look at me, Captain I don’t tell him what to do anymore. He’s an adult!” He says, “but just so you know I approve. I’ve always wanted a granddaughter.”  
“Okay then, you can take her down to the morgue so she can identify her parents before gives her witness statement, so it will be fresh in her mind.” He says. Joe and I both look at him. “Or we can do the witness statement tomorrow. Whatever works. But the morgue is nonnegotiable. We have to get the identity tonight so we can proceed with the death certificates, now go.” He says, and practically pushes us out the door of his office.  
“Did you really just do that, Barry? Sign Mallory’s custody paperwork?” Eddie asks me, as soon as we are outside the office door. He sounds impressed. I nod. “Congratulations, Barry!” He says, putting his hand on my shoulder.  
Captain Singh comes out of his office. “Go!” He bellows causing us to quickly walk towards the elevator to go down to the morgue. “Are you okay, Mallory?” I ask her, once we are in the elevator.  
She takes a deep breath, and slowly nods. “I’m okay,” she says, before hesitating slightly and continuing, “I just don’t like him.” She finishes crossing her arms and looking down.  
Joe and I nod thoughtfully in agreement. “He's not normally like this, it is probably because of the high-profile nature of this case,” she glances at me. “Which doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it makes it understandable.” She nods the elevator stops and we are here.  
We approach the morgue. “We are here to see the Ross bodies.” Joe says, flashing his badge at Ian our resident medical examiner “of course Detective West and company, come on in.” He says, welcoming us into his room. “I would assume you are the daughter.” He says, pointing at her, she nods weakly. “Oh, my poor dear I am terribly sorry.” He says, clearly being truthful. “There you are, my dear,” he says. He goes to unzip the bags “this will be very difficult for you to see again you sure you’re ready?” She nods. “Okay, my dear, here we go.” And with that he unzips the bags she closes her eyes for a moment and grabs my hand. “Oh dear, this is a rather embarrassing turn of events. We seem to have lost the bodies.” He says, adding a nervous laugh.  
“What?” All three of us chorus we look into the bags and see nothing there except two empty body bags.


	2. Chapter 2: I'm skeptical, it keeps me alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately following chapter 1, revolves around Mallory's interactions with the police, mostly with some family bonding, and of course that giant reveal at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this, but I hope it's worth it, I personally think it is. This summer is here and I am off meaning. I will post more quickly. In fact, while I am writing this chapter 3 is almost done! Just a few things to note Iris is slightly AU , don't hate me or hate me if you want. So is the Captain, same rules, applying there tooo.

Chapter 2: I’m skeptical, it keeps me alive  
Mallory’s point of view  
"What?” I exclaim quickly looking in the body bags expecting to see my parents’ bodies only instead I am met with the sight of nothing but an empty bag. I thought that maybe he was messing with me, but clearly he wasn’t.  
I look up at him horrified. “Perhaps my assistant put them in the wrong place.” He says, sounding concerned, but hopeful that this possibility may be true, and honestly, so am I. The alternative explanations are not as simple and straightforward. I watch him open every single slot, pull out the body bag, open it and put it back again shaking his head. “I’m sorry my dear, but it seems your parents are missing.” He says apologetically, looking embarrassed and frustrated. “In all my years I have never had anything like this happen.” He mutters mostly to himself before adjusting his jacket and saying “I probably should call the Captain Singh," with that he leaves the room and goes into his office to inform Captain Singh of the events.  
They are gone. My parents are dead and their bodies are missing, my mind repeats on a feedback loop, an endless echo as it slowly begins to sink in. It doesn’t seem real; it feels like I’m floating over on my surroundings. I recognize that I’m not fully aware of what is happening, it also feels like I’m drowning at the same time. I am vaguely aware of someone driving me toward the elevator. Once we are in the elevator, I let myself completely embrace that feeling. I stop fighting it and let it come over me like a wave and close my eyes.  
I hear the elevator open and somehow manage to drive myself to the bullpen. The bullpen is extremely busy, borderline chaotic people running all over the place, carrying files and on phones, yelling and arguing with people on the other end. My least favorite new person, Captain Singh, storms into the bullpen and parts the crowd like it is the Red Sea. “Okay, people,” he yells loudly clapping his hands, “the bodies in the most high-profile and single most important case of my career have gone missing.” He laughs like a crazy person before continuing, "that means that we are pulling an all-nighter; all hands on deck, does anyone have a problem with that?" He asks, still yelling at the top of his voice. He starts walking towards his office when he catches a glimpse of me. “You!" He says, pointing directly at me. “Follow me, " he orders, I just sit there and stare at him, which clearly annoys him. "Follow me, " he tries again. This time, his articulation is almost a growl which instantly makes me desire to comply. I proceed to walk behind him. “You too Thawne.” He says, pointing to the detective that had congratulated Barry earlier. The man seems confused for half a second, but quickly recovers and moves to come after us.  
He slams and locks the office door, the second we get in the room. He then proceeds to close the blinds once he is totally satisfied that we are alone and no one can disturb or see what he is doing. He walks round his desk to the office where I sit in my chair beside Detective Thawne, he steps directly into my personal space. “Listen Miss Ross, oh, I’m sorry I forgot. Miss Allen, you and your parents are causing me more trouble than your father’s unimaginable net worth." He says viciously. I stare at him. "This case is making me sound crazy.” He says in exasperation; I snicker at this remark. If you only knew the half of it. I think rolling my eyes, he glares at me. “I need this to be over before I completely lose my mind. I demand this to be over now. I need, I need…" He states as he walks back around to his chair behind the desk, his growing frustration can easily be picked up as he gropes around blindly for the cover of a drawer and opens it pulls out a glass and a bottle of bourbon, and pours himself a glass, drinks it, and then raises the empty glass in a wordless offer to the detective who is sitting beside me, who is looking completely dazed. Captain Singh takes Detective Thawne’s lack of a response as a no, he shrugs and pours himself another glass.  
“Captain, don’t you think you maybe shouldn’t do that at work?” Eddie asked, adding a nervous laughter.  
The question earned a look of pure disgust from the Captain, “Detective Thawne, I am the captain of the precinct, which means I can do whatever I want.” He says dramatically glaring at Eddie, who sinks in his chair and quickly nods. “And plus it’s not like they can see me anyway.” He adds haphazardly.   
I have to fight the urge to gawk and roll my eyes at the stuff that comes out of this guy’s mouth; have I mentioned I really hate this guy? If not, I will say it again. Man, I really hate this guy. He sits up in his chair with considerable effort. He leans forward on his elbows and lazily points his finger at me. “You, " he slurs, obviously extremely intoxicated by this point I force myself not to laugh as I wait for him to finish the rest of his sentence. “You on any pain medication?" I give him an inquisitive look and slowly shake my head in the negative direction not sure where the conversation is headed. “Good, good.” He says, satisfied with my answer before pausing and sighing like he lost his train of thought. He regains it about half a second later. “Don’t take any just yet, because we need you to give a statement and it won’t be admissible in court. If you are on pain pills." He says in his slurred speech, which is only getting worse.  
I’m so taken aback by what I am seeing and hearing from what is supposedly the face of the city’s police department that I quite frankly don’t know how to respond. I sit there in his office looking at the spectacle playing out in front of me. It truly is the spectacle, and it utterly and completely amazes me that this man, this heavily intoxicated belligerent man is the face of the city’s police department, but as it has been clearly demonstrated tonight, nothing is impossible. I finally come to the conclusion that my response to this won’t matter much if at all. Upon reaching that conclusion, I decide that it is in my best interest, as well as everyone else’s to comply with whatever he feels like I need to do to get this case off his plate. I take a deep breath. “I understand Capt. Singh, whatever you need me to do.” I say with what I hope is a convincing tone.

"Thank you, Miss Allen for that sentiment, but quite frankly, it really doesn’t matter.” He says impudently before turning to Eddie “she needs to be searched, and interrogated on her parents’ murder and questioned about the missing bodies.” He says, pointing to me.  
Eddie leans back in his chair and eyes me clearly in a state of shock at what he has just heard “and you want me to be the one to do it?" He asks uncertainly.  
"That is the whole reason I brought you in here with her Eddie, that is the general idea. Yes" Capt. Singh says dryly rolling his eyes. “So slow Eddie, it’s remarkable that you became a cop.” He adds, making me want to punch him in the face, but sadly I can’t.  
Eddie is clearly insulted by the comments made by the captain, but manages to reply “I get it, sir, but don’t you think that maybe we should get a female cop to do it.” Eddie stutters.  
This earns a look of unadulterated revulsion from Captain Singh, “No, you are the lead investigator on this case and I want you to do it.” The overarticulation of every word clearly displays in no uncertain terms, his rising anger at the situation.  
“But this could be against regulation and get the verdict thrown out if it comes up during the trial.” Eddie says, offering up one last piece of protest clearly not wanting to participate in the situation.  
The captain stands up and starts walking towards us and I instantly know that we are in trouble. “Do you really think I care?" He asks us, it is obviously a rhetorical question the quiet intensity in his voice makes it eerily apparent that we have crossed the point of no return. "No, no, I don’t. I couldn’t care less about the verdict or the fact that they died. It means nothing to me.” He tells Eddie and then he remembers that I am in the room. “Sorry darling," he says disparagingly. “But the only thing I see in your father and mother’s death is a promotion.” He finishes with a sneer. Did he really just say that out loud? I am stunned into silence. He thinks nothing of it and turns once again to Eddie, “so you can either search and interrogate her or I will do it and you will lose your job.” The ultimatum is laid down, and there is no doubt in my mind that he is serious, absolutely one hundred percent serious.  
Eddie gets up out of his seat and walks over to me. “I’m sorry, Mallory" he says, standing behind me, sounding slightly nervous and reluctant to get started. I can tell his apology is an honest one.  
“It’s okay, I understand.” I lie through my teeth. This is not okay, none of this is okay, but I have to at least try and make him feel better because it is not his fault.  
"What is this, Doctor Phil?" Just go on and search her. Enough stalling and as I pointed out, it doesn’t matter whether she says it’s okay or not. It only matters that we get this done! Out of the way! Finished!" He says with a bite in his voice.  
“Captain, I don’t know how to do this. I have never searched a person in a wheelchair, before." Eddie admits apprehensively most likely, fearing the reaction of the captain.  
The captain rolls his eyes and gives an annoyed sigh. “Eddie, it is quite simple. You follow the contour of her wheelchair and you put your hands on the inside of the chair and you pat her down. " He explains matter-of-factly. “I could show you if you want.” He offers, panic buttons are going off all over my mind. I do not under any circumstances want that guy to touch me. It doesn’t matter, that apparently he is gay. I just don’t feel comfortable with any sort of intoxicated man touching me.  
Luckily Eddie comes to his senses, just as Captain Singh is walking around to search me, “no thanks Captain I can do it.” Eddie says quickly, the captain shrugs and goes back to his seat.   
“She needs to take off her cardigan, you can’t search her with that on.” The captain interjects, “and she also needs to lean over the desk." He says, adding yet another requirement for this search to be to his liking.   
I take off my cardigan and lay it on the desk. I then wheel up to the desk and put my hands on it so that I am forced to lean over. Eddie, then moves to search me, due to the limited amount of space between my wheelchair and my body his hands, press against my body, which I guess is the idea of a search to make sure that the suspect doesn’t have anything on their person. He is trying to get this over with quickly, but also do it thoroughly enough to the satisfaction of Captain Singh, so that we don’t have to repeat the process again. He completes the process in ten minutes, “she has nothing on her.” He informs the captain of something I feel like we all already knew, so I was basically searched for no reason at all.  
“Just as I suspected, I just wanted to make sure I was correct.” He says nonchalantly to Eddie and I as each of us take our original seats in the room. I once again struggle to keep my cool. “To thank you for your cooperation this far, I am giving you a forty-minute reprieve. You can leave the room, go to the bathroom do anything you want, except leave the building, or take pain pills because I’m just a nice guy like that.” He finishes with a half-smile, half smirk and that makes me want to puke, I feel like the Hulk. That’s my secret, Captain, I’m always angry. It’s not just the look on his face that makes me want to punch him. It’s the very fact that he believes he’s being generous and I honestly believe that he believes he’s being generous.   
It is disgusting and vile, but somehow I manage to smile back and say, “thank you” before I walk out of the office.   
The second my dad sees me; he pulls me into a hug. “Mallory. What is going on? Are you okay?” He asks me, after he releases me, and has a look at my face.  
I am so stressed out; I can’t think about anything except the fact that I’m on the clock. “You don’t want to know. I’ve got forty minutes and I really need to go the bathroom.” I say annoyed, but honestly, I really have to go to the bathroom before I bust.  
My dad quickly helps me to the bathroom and puts me back in my wheelchair. Every part of my back is on fire. I bite my lip and breathe deeply as I look down at the clock which is part of the display of my power wheelchair. I have fifteen minutes before I have to get back to the office to be interrogated. Dad catches me looking at the clock. “Why are you looking at the clock?” He asks with intrigue and concern.  
“I told you I had forty minutes.” I answer, simply not wanting to talk about it. “And now I’ve got fifteen" I say to him.  
“You have fifteen minutes before what?” He asks, prodding me. I make the decision right then and there, not to answer. Don’t misunderstand me, I am fully aware of the situation playing out in front of me. I am aware that it is an extreme violation of protocol and rights that I should be protesting vigorously and should demand that they be halted and under normal circumstances I would. Under normal circumstances, I would wheel into the office and give the police captain a piece of my mind. These circumstances are anything but normal and as such they demand to be playing with a different set of rules, the type of rules where I just shut up and let it happen because in reality that is what’s best for everyone.  
“It’s nothing,” I say flatly to him, “I just don’t like being late.” It is an outright lie, one I’m not entirely certain that he believes.  
“I know that is not the truth, Mallory” Barry says, shaking his head. “Let me change your bandage, before you leave.” He tells me grabbing a bandage from the bag of supplies Caitlin had given him. He moves to stand behind me. “What happened to your sweater?” He asks, as I lean up so he can lift up my shirt to change the bandage. I stay silent and dad does not press for answers. I think because he assumes that I am in pain, which I am. As he takes off the bandage a wave of heat floats over my left shoulder blade, at that moment his thumb brushes against a slowly rising knot on my shoulder, right next to the wound. I bite my bottom lip as he places the new bandage and pulls down my shirt. I sit back in my chair and we exit the bathroom once outside I look at the clock, seven minutes. We walk towards the bullpen Dad looks at me; he can tell that I am in pain, he hands me two pills of pain medication.  
I can’t take it because of the interrogation and questioning a person on pain medication would violate the protocol, but it seems to me that everything that has occurred has been one giant violation of protocol. Then, have been all about screwing the protocol, but apparently I have to abide by protocol because of the implications to his career and the investigation if I don’t. Honestly though, if any of this comes out before, during or after the trial, the verdict will get reversed and all those implicated in the circus will be in serious trouble. I decide not to take the medication and hand it back to my dad, who looks confused. He clearly did not get to hear the wonderful internal monologue that you all did. It is because of this that I know I have to explain what I don’t want to explain. I take a deep breath. “I can’t take those not yet anyway, because Captain Singh is interrogating me, " I whisper quickly trying to explain, not wanting to go into details.  
He stops dead, and stares at me. Then he guides me to an open conference room and shuts the door to give us privacy. “He’s doing what exactly?!” He questions me with a quiet intensity that makes me believe that he is using a considerable amount of effort not to yell at me.  
The turn of events startles me. “Well, technically Eddie is interrogating me, but only because Capt. Singh told him to.” I babble struggling to form a coherent thought and feeling an urge to clarify my earlier statement before dad turns his anger on the wrong man.  
"But why is he interrogating you?" Barry asks me clearly aggravated by his boss’s actions.   
I struggle not to fire back with a clever retort. “I don’t know.” I answer him honestly, “but he thinks that somehow I am involved in this… Whatever the heck it is, or that I have information on someone who does!” I add injecting the first logical, coherent path of thought in the captain’s brain.  
“That is insane, you were unconscious and had a stab wound in your shoulder. There is no way in the world that you have anything to do with this.” My dad says in frustration. “It makes no sense!”  
I nod my head in agreement. “But since when does anything that happened in the past six hours make sense?" I ask rhetorically, in an attempt to lighten the mood an attempt that I know is not going to work the second, it leaves my mouth I continue on quickly. “Besides, Capt. Singh seems pretty hell-bent on closing this case before it destroys him whether he has to find a lead or create one. I don’t think it matters to him. I’m just the quickest means to achieve a favorable end." I say my piece with an obvious contempt in my voice and shake my head slightly at my ability to follow and translate the captain’s incoherent thought process into logical thought progression, I take it as a sign that I now fluent in “jerk" after sitting in my father’s office for hours after school listening to boring business meetings and conference calls with other Fortune 500 companies who thought they were so much better because they had grown up rich.  
“I don’t like it, he shouldn’t be able to treat you like this, you should be at home getting rest. Your parents deserve justice" he states simply looking at me with pity in his eyes, his voice wavering in anger.  
I wheel myself closer to him. “You’re right.” I say, my voice quivers momentarily before I regain some essence of control. “You are absolutely right, but sometimes in life, the only options you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose, so you choose the option that benefits the most people.” I close my eyes as I remember what my mother would often tell me when the doctors would come back with less than favorable news. "Realistically, I am the only one with enough background information on my parents to give a realistic goose chase.” I say, offering another piece of justification for the turn of events that we are experiencing, one that it looks like my dad can reluctantly agree with.  
“I still don’t like it." He says, furrowing his brow, before opening the door so we can make our way to the bullpen.  
I offer him a small smile before straightening myself in my chair and saying in a very official sounding voice. “Your objections have been duly noted." I quickly race out of the conference room with him running after me at normal speed, which is actually quite hilarious. When I get to the bullpen, people are staring at me.   
The closest police officer to the captain’s office looks at me for a moment then gets up to open the door to the captain’s office. “You’re late, he’s angry. Good luck.” The police officer says to me as I enter Capt. Singh’s office. He automatically shuts the door  
I take my seat beside Detective Thawne, Capt. Singh is sitting at his desk with an empty bottle of bourbon at his feet and a glass on his desk. He looks positively pathetic, disheveled and not like a cop at all the moment he sees me, though his eyes light up with the recognition and in this case, that’s a very bad thing. “Mallory, how nice of you to finally join us.” He says, his voice is oozing with slime. “You’re late, is it too much to ask for punctuality?” He asks, spitting on my face in the process. I don’t answer. I know this question is rhetorical. It takes me half a second, that there is a new person in the room. “No matter, we need to proceed as quickly as possible.” he says, before telling me to turn my chair to the right.  
This is my first interrogation, but it’s not my first interview with police normally, when I am interviewed by the police it is to give a witness statement of some kind. Unfortunately, unlike the other times I have worked with police and other agencies I will have to embellish the truth, oh who am I kidding, I am going to have to straight up lie to the police because of the interesting and unusual facets of this situation. Eddie starts by asking me basic background questions to confirm that I am who I say I am, although I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be me right now. Once my identity is confirmed, the real fun begins. "Can you describe what happened? " He asks me gently, he doesn’t push, is very understand which makes it abundantly clear. He is a good cop.  
It takes me several minutes to decide exactly how I am doing to answer his questions; I don’t want to completely lie to the police. I decide to answer the questions, truthfully and change some of the major details, like the fact that the man that killed my parents is a speed force using knife wielding maniac, who hates my father for an unknown reason. My father being your CSI investigator and also the city’s masked crusader and all this happened because of time travel! That’s not going to fly. “We were walking out of this restaurant, and this guy called their names and got them to turn around. He pushed us into an alley where he insinuated that he knew us and seemed to have some sort of personal vendetta. He then stabbed my mother through the heart while forcing me to watch. I started crying and he decided to shut me up with a knife in my shoulder. I blacked out, after I was stabbed, so I have no idea what happened to my dad." With that, my account of the events is complete. I am quite impressed with myself that I am able to give a mostly accurate account with only a few lies mostly of omission of details that I simply couldn’t find a way to tell with even a grain of truth, so I decided to leave it out entirely.  
Eddie looks at me with a mix of shock and sympathy. “He stabbed you?” Eddie asks in a slightly surprised way. I nod and turn around so back is facing them and move my hair out of the way so they can see the stab wound on full display. “Wow" he says as I turn back around to face them. “Forgive me for being so blunt, but how in the world did you survive?" He asks me.  
“I don’t know.” I say, giving them the simplest answer. Even though it’s not entirely true. I do know why I survived and I know why I will continue to survive. I am “functionally immortal,” which means my cells regenerate at so rapid a pace that any damaged incurred is fixed in a matter of days. This works with injuries, but not illnesses, don’t ask me why that is. Illnesses take longer, but if they cause any tissue/organ damage my body automatically heals itself. Old age can’t get me either because of my rapidly regenerating cells. I will stop aging at 21 and stay like that forever. So yeah, I’m “functionally immortal. The reason they call me functionally immortal is because they simply haven’t found the anything that will do it, and they are determined to find it. Honestly though, I think they should just give up.  
Eddie leans up against the desk and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he is about to ask a question, a very big, very dangerous question, he stays silent prolonging the inevitable as if prolonging it would somehow make it better, which it will not, but at least he’s trying. He takes a long, deep breath, and glances up at me again. “Do you know anyone who would want to do this to your parents?” He finally askes.  
I knew we were getting into the hard questions. The type of questions that I hate answering even on normal occasions with perfectly normal surrounding circumstances and yes, I just called giving a statement to a police officer “normal” it may not be the majority’s version of normal, but it’s my version. There is a lot of pressure on witnesses to provide correct, current and thorough information to help with the investigation. There’s also a lot of pressure on them, because if they get it wrong an innocent person could be put in jail for the rest of their life. So how am I supposed to answer this question? I can’t tell the truth, because of extenuating circumstances beyond my control, and so far out of the realm of normal, reasonable, logical, and plausible that it is almost laughable. I can’t just say “no” because in reality there are probably a great many people of notable caliber that wanted my parents, in particular, my father dead, and have the means and capability to do so.   
The police are probably at my father’s office right now; they will have found his “Love box” it’s not as dirty as it sounds, this box is a collection of the numerous death threats, angry emails and hate mail that my dad acquired over his 22 years of being a business executive/technology mogul. That is a lot of hate and anger from everyone from disgruntled fired employees to shady men representing competing corporations, but my dad wore it, and displayed it with pride. I once asked he kept all those messages in this box on his desk where everyone could see, and he told me, “hate often follows those who do what is right.” I have never fully understood, but now I believe I’m starting to, doing what is right, isn’t always the popular choice and doing the right thing, requires making sacrifices. I don’t want to put any innocent men behind bars. However, with the lengths that Capt. Singh has gone through. I don’t think he will let it go without a conclusion which lands him a promotion of some kind. I know how I’m going to answer. “Yes, I can think of a few people that would like to hurt my father.” I answer flatly, looking down Eddie waits patiently for me to continue. “About a month ago, my father was hired on Project Firebird, it was groundbreaking technology of some kind, massive payout – $500 million.” I paused to let the new information sink in. Eddie’s jaw hit the floor and Capt. Singh is doing some kind of happy dance. “Three other major corporations, lost the contract to my father. They were mad. They threatened to sue my father for bribing the Secretary of Defense, William Brian, which he didn’t do my father hated politics. He only did business with the government because they let him build big toys,” I say with a chuckle thinking about how excited my father would get when he was hard at work on a new piece of technology. “I’m changing the world, Mallory, I’m changing the world! “That was my father, an eccentric lovable goofball.   
Eddie is about to say something when Capt. Singh decides to resume his current action of back seat driver. I almost forgot that he was there his usually boisterous commentary has been toned down to an indiscernible mumbling and it was nice. Unfortunately, I guess he couldn’t help himself, because he staggers up to me, turns the notepad in the center of the desk around to face me and begins pointing wildly at the pen. He says something that is unrecognizable in the human language, but I get the point. He wants me to write down the names of the three companies that lost the job to my father. I take the pen and carefully and legibly print the names of the companies each company gets a separate line so he doesn’t get confused. Irina Technologies, Alastair National and The Price Technology Firm (I know ironic right) and hand him back the notepad. He takes one look at the notepad shakes his head and says, “I need the names of the people who run the company.” He says, aggravated before handing the notepad back to me. My hand shakes slightly as I began to write the names of the three CEOs of those companies Elijah Machiavelli, Alastair McKinley, and Alexander Price. After I write their names beside their respective companies. I once again return the notepad to him.  
“Hm," the captain says, looking down at what I had written “wow, these are some rich and powerful people and mega corporations. I’m talking Fortune 500, Forbes top 100 richest people. If one of them killed your parents. This is great,” I stare at him, not expecting an apology or for him to realize what had just come out of his mouth, then he says something that shocks me more than what he just said, “oh my gosh, did I just say that out loud?! I am so very, very sorry I didn’t mean it like that. Oh gosh I am truly a horrible person. Please forgive me. I’m really, really, really sorry. Have I said something else like that?” The captain questions. Eddie and I.  
I stare at him, wait a second. Did he really just apologize to me for everything that happened in the past two hours. All the insensitive comments, breaches of protocol, and general awfulness. He apologized for all of that. Wait a second, I think I know it’s going on, well, at least with Capt. Singh. He’s been drunk the whole entire day, presumably because of the stress that my parents case has put on him. “Are you a drinker when you get stressed?" I ask, and I hope it is in an innocent enough way.  
I know the answer before he says anything because of the sharp look of recognition, clarity and shame that comes to his eyes. “I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it was a horrible idea. I just couldn’t take all of the pressure.” He says, lamenting over everything that has happened. At this point he has his head in his hands. “How badly…" There is a long pause. “How badly did I screw up?" He asks us, his voice breaking.  
Eddie and I share a hesitant look between us. The man sounds so broken, and so apologetic that neither of us have the heart to tell him that he gold medaled in messing this one up. “That’s it!" He mutters quietly but defiantly before sitting up in the chair and regaining his composure. “I know what I have to do…" He pauses for a moment, looking at me with such remorse that I can feel my own heart almost breaking “I’m going to resign as Captain of the Central City Police Department and I want your grandfather to take my place.” He says, I sit there in utter amazement and now I am conflicted. I do not know whether to tell him not to retire and that everyone makes mistakes, or be supportive of his decision, or whether I should say nothing at all.  
I say the only thing I can in this situation. “I forgive you.” I say to him, and I truly mean it. The relief on his face is absolutely noticeable.  
After this, everything goes south at an incredibly fast speed, we hear a knock on the door. “Capt., I think you need to see this. Someone is turning themselves in for the Ross murderers." A police officer informs us. Wait, what I told you I had a bad feeling about this. I’m guessing it’s a normal person, otherwise I would expect to hear a lot more screaming and praying. The captain, Eddie and I run out of the office. Like I said I was expecting a normal person, but I was not expecting the normal person I saw. Here standing in front of me was Alexander Price, CEO of The Price Technology Firm and just so happened to be one of the names I wrote down on the notepad 20 minutes ago.   
Here he was standing in front of me in his $1000 suit and not the yellow kind with his wavy gray hair and crisp British accent. “Hello my name is Alexander Price I am the CEO of the Price technology firm and I would like to confess to the Ross murders." This is actually happening a CEO of a Fortune 500 company were multi-billions has just walked in to a local police station and confessed to a crime of first-degree murder, which he didn’t commit. I know he didn’t commit this crime, and he knows he didn’t commit this crime. So why in the world is he confessing? They ask him a question about how my parents were murdered and he says, “I stabbed Mrs. Ross through the heart and broke Mr. Ross’s neck.” He knows how they were murdered. It looks legit, it sounds legit and they arrest him and take him to a cell.  
This isn’t right, though, and how is anyone not questioning how perfect this is. The fact that a multibillion-dollar man, who was angry at my father for getting a huge deal to make some groundbreaking technology. That he apparently murdered my parents for this opportunity, would murder them, and then confess, effectively ruining his chances at making the technology completely and utterly destroying the company and spending 25 years to life in prison? No one’s questioning this yay for convenience, which we won’t question in all. No one’s even thinking to themselves, hey, wouldn’t an intelligent man with billions of dollars hire somebody to do it for them. The answer is yes, yes, they would it’s just one of the 25 things that don’t make sense, like why would a man turn himself in. When the police are nowhere near catching him or even suspecting him, true, I just wrote his name down on the suspect list, but that information hadn’t even been released to the news yet, it makes no sense.  
I feel disgusted at the fact that no one is questioning this. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I was there and I know the truth, and the fact that this is not it. Maybe I am overreacting, but I don’t think so. The problems with this scenario are blinking like a neon sign. I better leave the room before I scream it at the top of my lungs or get sick because this is how it makes me feel. I wheel out of the room, leaving everyone in their stunned silence their mouths are gaping open like this is the most unbelievable thing that they have ever seen in their lives. I bet you I could top it without even trying. I leave then because I don’t want anyone to follow me, and everyone’s distracted by closing my parents murder case they haven’t even asked or worried about the missing bodies, so I naturally assume that either they found them, or it doesn’t matter anymore. The only people I care about seeing now are Barry and Joe, I can’t call him dad. It’s too weird and way too new. I stop when I get to the conference room where we had our discussion earlier. I open it and go inside and close the door. I think about it for a while, and that’s who I want the only person in the world. I want my dad. I want my dad and the only dad I have now is Barry Allen. All at once, my phone vibrates and scares the crap out of me. I grab it and it says new text message I open up my messages and the new text appears from an unknown number. It reads: that was interesting. Wasn’t it?   
I know you’re not supposed to answer text messages from numbers you don’t know, but I can’t help it. I tap on the message and type: who are you? And I press send.  
Seconds later: who do you think I am? I thought you were clever:( those words make me want to jump out of my skin. I know who is texting me, the man in the yellow suit.   
I type back: the man in the yellow suit! You are the one behind all of this!  
There’s my clever girl :-)  
I hear a knock on the door and quickly shut down my phone. Barry and Joe come into the room. “Hey, the captain said we could go home and I know you want to go home." They both announce I nod and the three of us had towards the car.   
I get transferred into the back seat of the car and Barry sits beside me. “Are you okay?" I shake my head no. The pain in my back was now radiating out to every other part of my body. The pain was a solid 8.5. "You’re hurting,” he says, clearly concerned. He opens the bottle of pain medication which I can now take, so I take two pills. I curl up closer to dad and start to fall asleep.  
I am woken up a few minutes later, by Joe who says, “Iris is here,” wait, who is Iris. I am very confused. I’m assuming a person and they’re not talking about a flower. They both have really panicked expressions on their faces, which confuses me more is Iris good or is Iris bad?   
I probably should ask, “who is Iris?" They obviously hadn’t realized I woke up. They look at me like I’m a five-year-old, who just asked her parents. “where do babies come from?"   
Joe decides to answer my question. “Iris is my daughter.” Okay, I’m not really seeing the big issue with this and then he continues, “and she doesn’t know that Barry is The Flash." Okay, now I’m seeing the issue, but Joe continues, “and Iris is dating Eddie and Eddie knows Barry adopted you which he probably told Iris." That’s another big problem, so lying is obviously out.  
Then to top it all off, “and I am in love with her.” Barry states putting the proverbial cherry on the information/issue sundae. Now I’m starting to understand why they have such panicked looks on their faces, so many new connections and relationships and issues. I mean, my goodness, so much drama. It takes a minute for my pain medicated brain to understand and then oh my gosh I ‘m his ultimate dream crusher. I am living proof that he doesn’t get together with her. I don’t think he understands this yet, but I do and it makes me a little sad for him.  
“So what are we going to do?" Joe asks nervously, clearly he had liked the idea of his daughter and my dad, that’s really weird to say, being together, but I think he knows what I mean in regards to the situation.  
A really sharp pain hits me in the shoulder directly about where I was stabbed, presumably because I was leaning against the back of the seat directly where the knot is, which causes me to whimper. Dad immediately takes off his seatbelt. “We’re going in the house. She needs to rest,” he says, decisively and with that he unlocks the doors and takes my seatbelt off and carries me into the house, and to the bathroom where he changes my clothes and bandage and then puts me on the couch.  
About 20 seconds later, a gorgeous African-American woman walks into the living room. She is wearing jeans and a white halter top and gold sweater. The second she sees me, her expression changes, she goes from smiling to frowning and her eyes narrow with a laser like focus on me. “So you’re her.” She finally says, after about 15 seconds of hard-core staring at me. It’s very obvious from the tone in her voice that she has an issue of some kind of with me but nothing I can’t fix with a big smile. So I give her a smile. It doesn’t help. “Where’s Barry?” She demands of me and I am starting to get the feeling that this is not going to go well for anyone. You know that twisted up feeling in your gut when you know you are into something that is going to explode in your face I have that feeling right now. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in the past seven hours, it is to trust your gut.  
I am about to point to the kitchen when dad comes in with a bowl of food. “You think you can eat?" Barry asks me, I nod, but point at Iris, whose narrow gaze is now resting on him.   
Barry looks at her and smiles slightly. “Hey Iris “he says, somewhat awkwardly clearly not anticipating what he would say to her.  
Iris’s gaze has changed. It has become more narrow and more focused, which I didn’t even think was possible. Her stance has changed as well. Her weight has shifted to her right hip, hands on her hips. She looks like a very angry girlfriend or wife, did I miss the part where they used to date? “Eddie told me what you did, what do you think you are doing?” She asks, the way you would ask that of someone who is getting ready to jump off a cliff for fun. Barry looks shocked at the intensity and the way Iris just approached the situation. I for my part, sink further into the couch, closing my eyes because I do not want to see what’s going to happen next.  
“I adopted her, because she was going to be in the foster care system and that sucks.” Barry lies to her in an attempt to offer an explanation that would hopefully make her accept this decision, even though he doesn’t need to explain his actions to anyone. His actions are his own and he doesn’t need to apologize for them, especially this because it has not hurt anyone. I get it, though he is in love with her, so naturally he wants her to approve.  
Apparently, though, this explanation does not satisfy her, because she rolls her eyes. “You’re so young, Barry, what made you think to do this? There has to be something else, I’ve known you for too long, I know you and I know that there is something more because you are not spontaneous you plan, your careful, and I also know that you been hiding something for weeks. Ever since you woke up from your coma, there has been something different, something you are not telling me.” She tells and explains to him. I make the mistake of opening my eyes thinking that the worst is over. Iris looks at us together. “Hold on,” she steps closer to the couch and put her hand on Barry’s face and looks into his eyes, and studies his face. I immediately know what is going on. She’s figuring it out? She leaves Barry and comes over to me and gives me a quick glance. “Oh my gosh! You’re her father!!” She exclaims, and then runs out of the house. She knows, I don’t think she’s put two and two together and figured out he’s The Flash, but it won’t be long.  
“What just happened?!” Barry says clearly in a daze about what just happened. He has this shocked expression on his face.  
I smile slightly and give his hand a squeeze . “I think she knows dad.” I say, laughing at the expression on his face.  
“About everything?” Dad asked me, uncertainly raising his eyebrows.  
I shake my head, “I don’t think so, but I don’t think it will be long before she figures it out.” I say in response, even though I cannot be sure because I just met her.  
Dad sighs and Joe walks into the room. “How did that go?” He says in a hopeful tone adding a hint of a smile.  
“She knows!” We answer at the same time I watch his face, drop, and his mouth open.  
After several minutes of silence. He closes his mouth and says in a very sarcastic tone, “fantastic!” What happens next is extremely weird I feel a sharp pain in my head that makes me instantly close my eyes I am uncertain if I scream, I probably do.   
What I see behind my eyes is terrifying. I am in this room. I think it’s a vault standing in front of me is the man in the yellow suit. If that is not terrifying enough, he says, “you shouldn’t be in here,” he growls in his highly computerized voice. “Especially for Christmas, ha” I try to run, but he cuts me off. “You always have had a knack for being in places where you don’t belong” he chuckles and backs me up against the wall. “You’re just so curious and intelligent and inquisitive and too smart for your own good. It doesn’t help that your immortal.” He smiles when he sees my shocked expression “yes, Mallory, I know about that. I know everything about you, Bosnia, Budapest, Russia, Bahrain, Syria, Pakistan,” he pauses briefly clearly enjoying the look of fear on my face. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. “I even know about the stunt you pulled in Monaco. Now that was impressive.” He whispers to me. My heart stops. No one is supposed to know about Monaco, except The President and Homeland Security. “Do you want to know who I am?" He asks me, he backs away from me and I come around to face him.  
“I already know who you are.” I announce, not backing down from him, looking him dead in the face.  
“I know you know.” He says in a tired voice, I knew that. How do I know that? He takes off his mask. His face. He is Dr. Wells “Allow me to introduce myself.” He says. Walking towards me and extending his hand. “My name is Eobard Thawne " he finishes with a smirk.  
I then noticed that someone is shaking me and I wake up. When I open my eyes Barry is literally right beside me, looking extremely concerned and Joe is standing directly beside the couch, and when I look at him. I see he has the same expression on his face as well. “What happened?" Barry asks, “are you okay? You were screaming!” He tells me, so I did scream, truthfully, I have no idea what happened. That was really, really weird, and scary and difficult for me to explain. "Mallory?” He says getting slightly panicked by my lack of response, I’m trying to speak, but nothing will come out. He grabs my hands. “You’re shaking" he says to me. I am. I didn’t realize I was but I guess I am. It makes sense my nerves are completely shot at this point. “Tell me what’s wrong with you.” He begs, running his thumb against my cheek.   
I lean into his touch and try my voice again. This time it works. “I don’t know.” I say. My voice sounds slightly different but he seems content that I said something.   
“Do you want to stay here or go upstairs?” He asks me quietly.  
I debate for a few minutes, I don’t think my body wants to move “stay here, please,” I finally decide  
“If you need me. I am right here. Okay,” I nod, I still haven’t stopped shaking. “ I’ll be right back, I promise, dad can you watch her for a second ?” Joe nods and dad goes upstairs.  
“Are you okay, Mallory,” Joe asks me, I nod. I think I’m okay, Joe looks at me for a second. “You know that boy, your father. I mean will do anything to protect you, he loves you very much and so do I so nothing is ever going to happen to you.” He concludes. He looks at me again. “You do understand that right?” He asks a very much rhetorical question.   
I give him a hug. “I love you, grandpa” I tell him.  
He smiles and looks at me. “I love you too, but please don’t call me that.” He replies looking uncomfortable at the new word used to describe him.  
“Too bad, grandpa,” I tease him with a laugh.   
He is laughing too. “Fine, you win, you can call me grandpa” grandpa says giving up and accepting defeat. My dad returns a few seconds later. “Good night, sweetheart I love you” he says, and kisses the top of my head before heading upstairs.

I fall asleep to a round of recurring nightmares about The Man in the Yellow Suit until I am awoken by my phone, which is lighting up like a Christmas tree. A message from an unknown number appears it says URGENT I enter my passcode and unlock my phone. The second I see the message I freeze. There is security camera footage from two hours ago that has my parents on it!! What the heck is going on in the caption. It reads operation Firebird: successful status: active and operational, proceed to Phase Two. My phone rings. I almost drop it, the caller ID says, James Anderson, James Anderson, is my ex-boyfriend and my father’s number one intern and before you guys freak out. He is 17 he skipped several years of school because he is a genius.   
I pick up the phone. “Mallory, good, thank goodness you aren’t dead!” That’s the way to begin a conversation.  
I laugh. “Thank you, James, but is there any particular reason why you’re calling me at …” I look at the clock on my bedside table. “2 o’clock in the morning.” I say man, it is way too early to begin this conversation.  
“Um, Um, actually, yes, I am at your father’s office and I don’t mean to alarm you ,” he starts briefly hesitating, “but your parents are alive.” He finishes, dropping the bomb on me. Yep, it is way too early in the morning to be starting all this “can you meet me in two hours at the usual spot?” He asks, frantically, he sounds like he is hyped up on energy drinks.  
What do I do, I say “of course, usual protocol and code?” Sure, a meeting at 4 o’clock in the morning in this town’s only 24-hour diner to discuss my supposedly resurrected parents that sounds fun, it will probably lead to an investigation that could probably get us both killed. But, sure, why not!


	3. Chapter 3: What Could Possibly Go Wrong? A lot more than you think!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mallory's meeting with ex-boyfriend and fellow spy James Anderson is very eventful. The group become aware that the information is not only between them. There will be multiple people interested in the technology that may exist, and that means danger. Lots and lots of danger.

Chapter 3: What Could Possibly Go Wrong? A lot more than you think!  
Mallory’s point of view.   
I get to the diner an hour early, because it’s not like I could go back to sleep anyway with the pain, reoccurring nightmares and the new revelation that my parents that I just saw get murdered right in front of me are alive, that task seemed impossible. Not wanting to hang around outside the diner for an hour at 3 o’clock in the morning, especially in a city that has an active nightlife and such high crime rates, I make my way to the door and a young waitress who looks like it is her first day on the job lets me in.  
The diner is pretty much in its original design and has not been updated in the 50 years since it opened, it is also quiet and almost empty with only three people inside, not counting me or the waitress. Once I am inside the waitress smiles and asks a surprising question “are you Mallory Ross?” I am slightly confused, but I nod. She smiles and laughs, “James Anderson is waiting for you, he’s right there.” She grabs a menu, and points to the third table closest to the bay window that has Ruby’s 24-hour diner written on it, and there he is, of course, he is.  
I follow her and sit down at the table as she places the menu on my left. James Anderson, British spy extraordinaire has always been the picture of punctuality always early and never late. He is tall and muscular. He has golden blonde hair and eyes that are the color of the ocean. He is wearing a blue hoodie and jeans and has his headphones listening to music, probably classical. I tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.  
He looks up at me and smiles. “Mallory, you’re early. How did that happen?” He asks jokingly making fun of my reputation of being late. I don’t do it on purpose. I just never seem to be able to get out of the house on time. “What are you wearing?” James asks, sounding slightly confused remarking on the fact that I am still in my pajamas.   
“It’s 3 in the morning and we’re sitting in a 24-hour diner when normal people, 95.3% of people are at home in bed asleep, so I am sorry that I am in my pajamas.” I say sarcastically I get really sarcastic when I’m tired.  
James just nods and smiles. “It takes a special kind of crazy to be one of us.” He hands me a cup of something on his right. “Drink it,” he says to me. I look at him skeptically. “Oh for goodness sakes, Mallory, it’s coffee. Do you really think I would bring you all the way down here just to poison you? I ordered that especially for you, you know, I don’t drink that stuff!” He’s right, he doesn’t drink coffee. He prefers energy drinks. So I sip on my coffee. “Better?” He asks I nod, except now I need something to eat because just pain pills and coffee in my stomach is going to be a bad combination. I am about to order when the waitress comes by our table with a plate of 2 scrambled eggs, bacon and toast when she goes to set it down in front of James he shakes his head and points to me, the waitress looks at him funny for a split second, but sets the plate down in front of me, anyway.  
I stare at him and then the plate and back up at him. “Are you psychic?” I ask him genuinely, because with all I’ve seen yesterday, it could very well be true.  
James takes it as a joke and laughs. “No, no I don’t think so, Mallory, I just know you.” I begin eating “as much as I am enjoying this conversation, I think we should get to the matter of your parent’s miraculous resurrection.” I am in the middle of chewing “don’t worry, you can continue eating” he says before continuing his train of thought.   
“I was working in your father’s office looking over program notes and company records, the investigation had gotten everything out of place and disorganized. It was a nightmare.” Why am I not surprised? I give James a look that says, “get to the point.” “Oh, sorry, anyways I digress. When I was going through the entry logs, I noticed that your father’s key card has been used to access something in “Pandora’s box” he says. 

I’m intrigued. “Pandora’s box” is the nickname for the inventions/programs that only he and a few others, James included could have access to. Usually the inventions in “the box” were too early in development or too ambitious, dangerous or just plain stupid, sometimes a mix of all four. I didn’t find it all to a remarkable or hard to imagine that my father would go in there alone.   
“It was time stamped two hours after his death, and what’s even more interesting is, we didn’t have any ongoing projects in “Pandora’s box” so I went to check it out and the box was empty, and I was about to leave when I got a text from an unknown number that had surveillance footage of your parents on it. It was time stamped after they died just like the keycode entry. It was labeled.”  
“Operation Firebird” I cut him off and finish his sentence as I start on my second cup of coffee. He looks at me in amazement. “I got it to” I say with a shrug.  
“Do you know what it is?” He asked me, sounding slightly uncertain which makes me confused. Shouldn’t he know what it is?  
“I think so, isn’t it some sort of government contract project?” I half answer half ask back.  
James shakes his head. “No, Mallory, I don’t think so. We haven’t had a project with a government agency in over a year, your father had gone more into the private sector.” James says I sit back; this is news to me. James takes a deep breath and sighs, before saying, “and we have no record of any project named Operation Firebird currently or otherwise.” He says. “But they’re alive because they were on the security camera footage at the office as well, and no one can hack your dad’s security system.” He says to me, and I would tend to agree with him on that. Excellent. So what I gathered from this meeting is my parents are alive because of some project that the company has no record of, my dad lied about for months, we have no clue what it does, where they are. We don’t know if they are brainwashed or if they know everything that’s happening or who commissioned the project in the first place. So that is absolutely fantastic, there’s my sarcasm kicking in the again.  
“I ‘m assuming that you want to investigate this.” I state James is a member of MI6. That’s actually how we met when he was investigating me for MI6, I am a secret agent as well, who is currently retired from A. R.G.U. S., America’s secret antiterrorism task force I say currently retired because retirement usually doesn’t last too long in the intelligence business. They’ll probably end up needing me back honestly, I don’t know why I even try. James nods. “On the books or off?” I ask, casually showing my interest.  
James laughs. “Off the books, of course, Mallory can you honestly think of the British or American government having the technology to resurrect people? It would be a nightmare.”  
That’s when stuff gets real and I realize the reason why you don’t stay out in the city at 3 o’clock in the morning, as well as just the plain gravity of the situation. A dark van pulls up outside the diner, four men get out in tactical gear and are carrying assault rifles. James realizes this, a second before I do, the men start shooting at the window first which instantaneously shatters on contact. James guides me down to floor. I’m covered in broken glass shards. People are screaming, as the men continue their assault on the building. James and I are both aware of what’s going on. They’re coming after us. James pulls his gun out of his holster and cocks it, and then gives me his other weapon. His laptop bag always has extra bullets. He had it already positioned between the two of us just in case. James and I are fairly good with weapons. We exchange several rounds with the masked gunmen before we hear tires screeching and they pull away. I sit there on the floor, propped up against the table, man am I going to have some PTSD. The place looks like a war zone, amazingly, though no one was hurt. The only other two people have gone home. “Good job, America,” he says to me. I smile at my nickname. “We’re going to have to go.” James remarks as he lifts me and put me back in my chair, “that is, if you’re still in.”  
Am I still in? Was I even in, in the first place? I don’t recall saying that I was in before this happened. I guess he just assumed I would be in, and it is rational to assume, based on current events that someone else assumes I am in, so I guess that means I’m in. “Yeah, I’m in. I mean, if they’re going to try and kill me, anyway, I might as well be in.” I say, conceding to James and God who has apparently decided that I need more excitement in my life, and once again I’m back in the game, see I told you my retirement wouldn’t last very long.  
A huge smile spreads across James’ face. “Excellent. I knew you couldn’t resist. Now, come on.” He says, leading me outside to the back parking lot, when we reach his company car, which is a Christmas gift from my father from last year, we get in all of the company cars are fitted with wheelchair accessibility per my dad’s request.  
“Where are we going?” I ask, as we pull out of the parking lot and start driving east.  
“Your father’s office to see if we can find any hidden files on this secret project of your father’s.” He answers back paying full attention to the road. I nod, though I doubt that we will find anything about it, especially if James has already searched and found nothing. The other thing that thoroughly convinces me that we will find nothing about this in my father’s office is that he is a very smart man. He had kept this hidden for months with no one suspecting anything out of the ordinary. Truthfully, I’m conflicted about going back to my father’s office, conflicted about knowing the truth, I’m not sure of what will find out when we look into this and that is scary. By doing this it will open my mind up to something. I don’t know what it is, but all I know is whatever is inside that box. Once I open it up. I cannot close it.  
I feel a tingly feeling in my right arm, it also feels warm and wet. I glance down, three quarters of the way down my arm, there is this huge cut with a shard of glass in it. “James, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I’m bleeding.” I say as calmly as I can manage.  
“What?” James exclaims, as we pull into the parking lot upon parking the car he comes around to my side flings open the door, “let me see,” he says in a very serious tone. I show him my arm, he frowns momentarily. “Don’t move, Mallory, I’ve got something in my bag that will fix this.”  
He stands up to get his bag from the front seat, he sounds very confident in his ability to fix the damage. He returned a few seconds later and begins pulling out variety of medical supplies out of his bag, I raise an eyebrow. “I try always to be prepared and I wouldn’t laugh, because without this stuff you’d be in trouble.” I stop because he has a fair point. “Okay, first, I’m going to have to get the glass out.” He grabs a pair of forceps and easily removes the glass, next he grabs a bottle of rubbing alcohol and looks at me, “Mallory, this is going to sting” he grabs a little sewing kit and stitches me up carefully. I am amazed at how good he is. Every stitch is small and perfect, “There you are, darling, good as new.” He says as he finishes stitching me up. I wheel out of the car and we proceed towards the building, as soon as the building is in view, I feel a chill run down my spine. James notices “are you cold?” I stay silent.  
He takes my lack of response as yes, and takes off his jacket and puts it around me. I am so distracted that it takes me a second to notice. “Thank you, James” I say, it’s hard to tell in the twilight, but I think he is blushing. Once inside I go straight to my father’s office. I’ve been here countless times, all throughout my life, so I could basically navigate this whole entire building in my sleep. But now everything feels different. The sound my wheels are making on the floor. The way the hallway looks all of it.  
When I go past the marble fireplace. I push open the glass doors to my father’s office and step inside. The moment I am inside his office; I am overcome by a sense of dread. This is so wrong, what I’m about to do go through my father’s belongings and hack his computer. Mallory, you’re doing for the right reasons you need to find out where they are, and how it works and make sure that no countries get their hands on this. It’s for international security. Oh, the crazy things I tell myself to justify what I’m doing. It works though, I move my father’s chair and scoot under his desk and began to work on to his computer.  
James appears a few minutes later. “What are you doing?” He asks, sounding quite shocked at the fact that I was already here and working.  
I roll my eyes. “Hacking my father’s computer to see if there are any encrypted files having to do with Firebird” I say, cringing at the sentence that just came out of my mouth.  
“You can do that?” He sounds impressed. “I thought your father’s technology was impossible to hack.” He says, sounding a touch confused.  
“It is to everyone but me.” I say, but continue when I realize how conceited that sounds “my dad taught me how to do it when he taught me how to code.” I say offering further explanation.   
He seems to understand and appreciate the explanation and begins going through my father stuff. “Mallory, where do you think would be the best place to start?” He asks me, for those of you who don’t know my father, he has a lot of stuff and there is a distinct lack of organization, at least in a traditional sense. My father’s system of organization was done by levels of importance.   
The stuff that was most important to him, he kept the furthest away. I know that seems counterintuitive, but my father was a master of reverse psychology and the more well-known he became the more paranoid, he was that someone would take the things, and the people he loved and use them for leverage, something about me being kidnapped four times in my childhood made him get that impression. So he developed this system organization to try and counteract this issue. The crazy part is for the most part it worked, for the most part, his new obsession with rumors psychology and keeping me safe. I didn’t get kidnapped at least not that he knew, but you see, by the time I was 10 I had joined A. R. G. U. S., so I was putting myself in danger. I had a team of bodyguards and was homeschooled because my father couldn’t find a school that he felt like it was safe enough for me to go there. See, I told you it was an obsession.  
“Try the bookshelf in the far corner of the room, bottom shelf left hand corner.” I tell him confidently.  
“That is an extremely specific answer.” James says as he walks over to the bookshelf. “This is really far away from your father’s desk, are you sure he would put something with that much danger and power in here?” He asks me, this annoys me slightly, don’t ask for my help and then question me when I give it to you. The fact that it’s far away is what makes it absolutely right, I give him a look that basically says it’s right! The second he sees the look on my face. “Okay, just one quick question. My left, or your left?”   
This question takes me a second to answer because not only am I hacking the world’s most secure technology in the history of mankind, but I am really bad with directions. “You’re left.”  
“You are still as directionally challenged as ever.” James remarks through the laughter.  
I glare at him. “Shut up, English!” I demand jokingly using his nickname from when we were dating. “I am trying to break through a multilevel decanomial encryption and that would be a lot easier if we could have this conversation later. You know when it doesn’t involve my parent’s miraculous second chance at life or international security.” I say as I ferociously enter data into the computer.  
My words, however, do not seem to have the desired effect as James looks up from the bookshelf and directly at me. “You want to have this conversation later?” He asks, his voice is filled with curiosity, and a hint of hope.  
Unbelievable. We are in my father’s office at 15 minutes past four in the morning hunting for information on some sort of Lazarus device thingy and he is interested and holding out hope for our relationship. I take a few minutes to let that sink and let myself calm down before I answer “yes, James yes, if we both somehow manage to survive this investigation, I will have any conversation with you that you want. Just not now, okay” and with that I return to my work.

“Excellent, I would like that.” James says, before he finally returns to going through the stuff on the shelf.  
The next 20 minutes, are drown in a dense, heavy and overbearing silence. At this point I have managed to break through all the encryptions and safety measures, which is my personal best for hacking. I am about to celebrate when I met with a screen that I have never seen before. Suddenly the computer says, “hello” and when I say it says “hello,” I mean it actually says that in a computerized British accented voice. This immediately causes me to push back from the computer and James to look up in surprise. “Hello?” The computer tries again and then laughs, “I know you are there.” Then something even stranger happens, a life-size holographic version of a British woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and rectangular glasses appears wearing what would appear to be a normal secretary’s outfit. “Hello, Special Agent Mallory Allen and Special Agent James Anderson of MI6.” She says kindly to us.  
James and I stare in awe and disbelief. She looks so realistic that it’s hard to believe she’s a hologram, if she hadn’t just come out of the computer you would believe she is a real person. I am the first to recover from this latest shock. “Who are you?” I ask in a voice that I hope isn’t too rude.  
She tilts her head to the right and blinks as if she is surprised by this question her movements are once again breathtakingly realistic. She straightened her head. “I am Gideon” she states simply, that doesn’t help us. I frown. She continues, “I have been expecting you the timeline dictates that on September 5, 2014 Mallory Allen and James Anderson will break into Kelsey drive industries looking for information on “Operation Firebird” you will be successful in gaining and deciphering the information necessary to complete the mission and secure the device.” She finishes awaiting the next question.  
“How do you know this?” I ask Gideon intrigued to by this new development, but not at all surprised, James stares at her, eyes glazed over in confusion.  
Her eyes light up, as she smiles slightly. “It is part of my operational programming to know all major impacting events in the current timeline as well as be an expert on all persons that are integral to the success of the timeline.” She states simply satisfied that she has thoroughly answered the question she had been given.  
Current timeline what is that supposed to mean? Multiple timelines, as in multiple outcomes do they coexist or are they separate? “Gideon, there are multiple timelines correct?” She nods slightly, “why is it, that you are here trying to keep this timeline intact?” Gideon’s eyes light up again, however this time the emotion in her eyes is recognition and fear which she recovers from almost instantaneously. “Someone told me you would ask that.” She says her mouth, turning into somewhat of a smile. My heart quickens its beating who told her that I would say that “to answer your question, this timeline maintains the best possible outcomes for the most people.” It makes sense wanting to maintain the best situation for the most people. “Download me to your phone.” She orders me. “The timeline requires that you do so.” She snaps. She definitely takes her job seriously.  
I wheeled back under my father’s desk and plug in my phone to the computer and download Gideon she then smiles at me and goes into my phone. “Mallory? Seriously we’re taking orders from AI now?” James askes me astounded.   
He is sitting down in my father’s favorite rolling office chair and he has visibly paled. Poor James, I really do feel sorry for the guy. All he was trying to do was help me, and instead, he ended up buying himself a one-way ticket on the crazy town express.  
“First, it was not an order. It was a suggestion. secondly, she is from the future and has knowledge of and multiple timelines. Thirdly, she is the AI that was protecting my father’s files which means she contains all the files on Operation Firebird and lastly, her name is Gideon.” I say in a matter-of-fact sort of way.  
“I can still hear you, James” Gideon says suddenly in a motherly tone.

“Mallory, what is going on?” James asks confused, “you just said she’s from the future the same way you would say the day of the week you are not the least bit freaked out by the fact that she just said she is from the future?” I shrug it doesn’t freak me out, which I guess is a testament to the fact that I’ve had so much unbelievable in the past 20 hours, that I have grown accustomed to it.  
“I don’t know.” I lie smoothly feeling a little bit guilty in doing so, but I don’t even understand this situation myself well enough to explain it to anyone.  
James stands up and walks around my father’s desk to where I am and leans against the desk. “Mallory,” James whispers. I look up at him, why is he whispering we are the only two people in the building.   
“What?” I breathe out innocently in a whisper. I still have no idea why we’re doing that.   
He has put his hand on my cheek. “I want to do something.” He says gently running his thumb across cheek. He leans down and his lips meet mine. He is kissing me! My ex-boyfriend is kissing me! The kiss itself is slow and sweet and loving. I like it. I actually like it a lot. I am kissing my ex-boyfriend in my father’s office, yet another thing to cringe about!  
I am about to kiss back when we are interrupted by a familiar voice. “Ahem hello you guys. I don’t mean to interrupt this romantic moment but you are about to get ambushed in 30 minutes. The same guys from the diner” she informs us James and I blush. “You all were still aware that I was on right?” she asks us; we stare at her. “Okay, I take that as a no, don’t worry, I will perform a memory wipe of that situation.” She says awkwardly.  
Wait a second, didn’t she say something about an ambush? She did, didn’t she, oh great. This is just great. “James,” I say, looking at him, sweetly as the recognition of what is about to happen, connects with my brain.  
“Yes, darling,” he says, tenderly leaning down to kiss me again.

“We are about to be ambushed.” I say seriously, getting straight to the point.  
“Oh, okay. All right, that is excellent.” James remarks, pulling away from me. He grabs the laptop case, and gives me my gun.  
“Gideon, how many are there?” I ask her going immediately into my operation voice.  
“Well, they seem to have learned from their mistake and are sending 12 highly skilled Russian mercenaries.” Why does it always have to be the Russians I hate the Russians. “They also have been ordered to kill you, personally, and painfully.” That is wonderful, personally, and painfully, so nice of whoever is pulling the strings on this operation. One good thing about that though is no assault rifles in hand to hand combat.  
“Are we seriously trusting that thing, from the future?” James asked, clearly perplexed by the whole thing.  
“Yes!” Gideon and I both answer at the same time.  
James rolls his eyes. “Fine, but I’m keeping my gun!” He puts his gun in his holster and we plan where we are going to stand. Suddenly a barrage of bullets streams through the side window James and I are behind the marble pillars in my father’s office. “There’s a sniper on the roof.” He tells me in a rush.  
That’s not playing by the rules, not that there is any honor among people in the intelligence community and those in the hitman industry or anything, and the Russians hardly ever play by anyone’s rules, but their own. So this doesn’t necessarily come as a shock to me more like a disappointment.  
James and I stay quiet as we wait for them to search the rest of the building. It takes them 18 minutes’ tops which means they are extremely efficient. Suddenly we hear the door unlock three….2… 1. Ladies and gentlemen, it is show time.  
They come in the office in groups of four. It turns out It's just like riding a bike, only a lot more violent and exhilarating. It's like I'm seeing what to do behind my eyes, and it's making my body do it. I support myself on the arms of the chair raising my body completely out of the chair and kick him 3 times. One of the men from his security detail is currently trying to choke me. Yeah, no that's not going to happen I grabbed his arm from around my neck and throw him on the ground.  
“It still amazes me how you can do that.” James yells to me across the room. He is currently fighting one of the guys we saw earlier. James swiftly kicks the guy into my father’s desk.  
“Thank you, James it took a lot of practice.” I say as I take down the last guy from the team that tried to kill us earlier, with a couple of well-timed punches to the face. Unfortunately, like always, there is no rest for the weary, or the wicked.  
The second group of poor unfortunate souls that come into the room, have their weapons drawn. They are ready to shoot me, and James but when the leader comes into the room. He does something incredibly stupid. He tells them to lower their weapons. He walks up to me and says “Вы глупо мало инвалидов девушка, просто для удовольствия Давайте посмотрим, вы бороться!” (Translation: you stupid little disabled girl, just for fun, let’s see you fight!)

“Вы потеряете ваши достоинства и ваши мужчины.” I say confidently. (Translation: you will lose your dignity and your men.)  
He stares at me. His eyes narrowing. “Доверие, я люблю его. Я хотел бы, чтобы вы попробуйте, будет бороться в одиночку без вашего Супермен” he says with a smirk (translation: confidence. I like it. You’ll fight alone without your Superman?) I nod  
James is forced into a chair and his hands are tied behind his back. He is going to be forced to watch me take on eight Russian mercenaries by myself. This should be interesting. It may be the worst decision of my life so far, and that is a competitive field. The first one is relatively easy. He is obviously the newest recruit. It isn’t until the sixth one that things get things get interesting. I am put on top of my father’s desk, being held down and punched for a couple minutes until I manage to get my leg free to kick him in the face, which effectively shatters his jaw bone.  
The last two guys decide to team up. Not a bad plan that is until I get back in my wheelchair. I remember that during my special training, they taught me several moves designed especially for me that would work perfectly in this situation. I once again push myself so I'm out on the seat do a "windmill" kick two guys fall to either side of the wheelchair. That only leaves the guy with his head and upper back positioned on my foot plate. I had built up a lot of forward momentum I swing my legs down and my feet land on his shoulders and he's out like a light.

The remaining guys that didn’t want to fight me because they had heard about me and didn’t want to be on permanent disability for the rest of their lives free James and run out of the room. I am black and blue and purple and I feel like I went 10 rounds with Mohammed Ali, which is not a good feeling. James walks towards me and cups my face in his hands. “You’re amazing, you know that?” James asks a very rhetorical question with a laugh, kissing me gently again.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice, or a few hundred thousand times.” I say and start laughing with him and kiss him back.  
“Miss. Allen and Mr. Anderson,” Gideon’s voice sounds again, as we pull away from each other.  
“Yes, Gideon” we both respond causing her to clap in excitement.   
“He actually used my name. Thank you very much, Mr. Anderson” she says cheerfully.  
“Gideon, get to the point.” We both chastise her. She sounded really urgent then she got distracted.  
“Oh, right. Sorry.” She apologizes frantically. “What I was going to say was that the police and news media outlets will be here in 45 minutes so it would be best to leave now.” Gideon states we nod and start to head for the door. “Miss Allen, I am also going to do a full data wipe of your father’s computer. Everything will be gone, including me. I can’t risk this information getting into the wrong hands. You have me on your phone you will be the only person with access to your father’s files and to me. Just like it was always supposed to be.” Gideon states once again.

We walk out of my father’s office, out of the building. Only when we are outside does it truly hit me with the gravity and weight that it probably should. I am the only one with access to my father’s files. I am one of only five people they knew who killed my parents really and I am one of only three people outside of my parents that know that they are back from the dead. Another epiphany hits me as I’m getting into the car, sitting up front directly beside James. Without these files my father’s company will probably go bankrupt. James can see what I am thinking, and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Mallory. Don’t worry about the company.” He states evenly I give him an uncomprehending look. Jim sighs, “Mallory all your father’s projects in those files were stopped when your father died, the new CEO wanted to start fresh build his own ideas.” I frown and narrow my eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re still a beneficiary of the company. Soon you will be receiving a large sum of money from the company every six months.” He offers as some consolation.

My father has been dead for less than a day and they have already replaced him wiped out any trace of impact, he would have going forward. That is just the cruel way the business world works. I know he was trying to make me feel better about taking the files but all that made me feel was disgusted.   
I fall asleep a few minutes later, I have a much different dream than before, though. It takes place on a ship not like a boat like a spaceship. “Gideon,” I hear an unfamiliar British accent say “plot a course for the year 2046.” He says. Walking around the console of the ship, looking very unhappy about something.

“Of course, Captain Hunter” I hear Gideon answer back cheerfully.  
“Absolutely not! Authority override C – 48 – 97 – X-116-232.” I hear my voice say as I wheel on to the ship. Son sit your butt down. I do not give you this time machine so you could go back and change it every bad thing that happens to you. That’s not how it works.” I command my child.  
“Mom, come on, I’m 139 years old and immortal, you can’t tell me what to do.” He says, exasperated with me.  
I give him a look that clearly proves that we have been through this a couple times. “I am 167. I am also immortal and I’m your mother. So yes I can. Sorry son, but no matter how old you get I still will be around to keep you out of trouble and I will always be older.” I say, sounding just as aggravated as he is.  
“Fine, mom, you win.” He says, realizing I am right. He walks over to me. “I love you, mom.” He gives me a kiss  
“you better love me” I say with a smile on my face. “Go have fun with your wife and my grand baby.” He laughs and leaves the ship   
“Hey Mom,” a second voice rings out, but this one sounds American. I see a very handsome tall man that looks a little like James, but he has different color eyes. Wait, does that mean, oh boy, “did you all have that fight again?” He asks, I nod. “He’s never going to stop trying to pull rank on you. He says with a laugh.   
“But it’s never going to work,” I say with a sort of melancholy laugh before I turn to him and put my hand on his face. “But not you. You are momma’s baby and you never tried to pull rank on me. My sweet little Tyler” he gives me a look of disgust when I mention his name. I then seem to sigh. “Rex” I say, using his nickname, which apparently he likes much better. “You look so much like your father.” I say, giving him a smile and a kiss.  
He wraps his arms around me, giving me a hug. “I love you too. Mom a lot.”

When I wake up I am very extremely confused, what the heck was that? I have kids with James? They are immortal, that’s good. It takes me a while to realize I am at home on the couch in the living room. My blanket is on the floor all of the bruising and stitching from last night is exposed, the news is on, and it says “Night of High-Profile Crimes: Ross Case Connection Probable!   
Oh, I am so screwed. “Good morning, guys.” I say, upon waking up enough to form words. I close my eyes and braced for impact.

My dad comes over with breakfast, my second today. “Are you okay,” I nod. “Are you sure?” I nod once again. “Mallory. What happened last night?” He asks his voice full of concern. Joe is sitting in a chair to my right, looking like he is ready for anything at this point.

I take a deep breath, there’s no way I can lie too many bruises and connections to my parents’ murder case, so resigning myself to that fact, I just come out and say it. “I used to be a spy.”  
And with that everyone’s mouth fell to the floor.


	4. The trouble with the reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s the trouble with the reality. You can’t always get what you want, you can never know who to trust and in reality you never know who is pulling the strings and there are no do overs.

Chapter 4: The Trouble with the Reality!  
Barry’s POV  
“I used to be a spy.” Mallory says quietly, in response to my question. My jaw just about fell to the floor. She used to be a spy? Used to be. What does that mean? Who did she work for? Wait, being a spy involves danger and training and danger and weapons and terrorists and mobs. Okay, I’m freaking myself out a little bit right now okay, actually I lied a lot.

I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, figuratively speaking, Mallory telling me she used to be spy didn’t answer my question, at least not fully and has created an onslaught of new questions. She looks absolutely exhausted and like she is in a tremendous amount of pain. I’m trying to decide if I should ask her questions. “Mallory, do you feel like you could answer some questions for me?” I ask gently, not wanting to push too hard.

“Oh, okay, sure.” She says apprehensively trying to get comfortable. She winces quite a bit before giving up and settling back in her original position. “Go on.” She says in a tired voice prompting me to go ahead and ask questions. I struggle to come up with the first question I want to ask her, I have tons and tons, but I don’t want one that is too hard for her to answer from an emotional standpoint. "Dad, ask whatever you want. I’m not a porcelain doll I won’t break." She says, sounding a little annoyed by my hesitation.  
“What do you mean you used to be a spy?” I ask, desperately trying to find a way to ease my confusion and panic, and the only way I can do that is by asking questions.  
“I retired," she says simply by the tone in her voice and the way she is looking at me, I can tell there is a story behind it that she clearly does not want to tell me about. I can’t help it that worries me. Secondly, who retires at 16? When did she start?   
So that is the question I decide to ask "when did you become a spy?"

She mutters something, does some math, gets an answer and purses her lips. “Well," she says nervously. “I started training when I was nine, but technically, I wasn’t an official agent until I was 10.” 10?! She was 10? 10-year-old girls should be playing with Barbie dolls and dressing up in Disney princess outfits, not running after some sort of international criminal mastermind in a foreign country!  
I am confused and startled by this new development. “How does a 10-year-old get recruited by the government to help them catch the bad guys?”

When she hears my question she almost immediately recoils I look at her slightly alarmed by her reaction. I am uncertain whether this reaction is being caused by pain or the question itself. She then takes a minute to regain her equanimity. "Oh, you know the normal stuff, being kidnapped four times and surviving." She says quietly, looking down.

My mind goes crazy imagining my daughter being put into a van drugged and taken to another country. I was seeing all sorts of abandoned or condemned buildings interrogations and torture scenarios. I can feel my blood pumping through my veins. I can hear my heart beating at an accelerated pace behind my ears. Those thoughts make me feel extremely nauseated and angry like I want to punch everyone who ever did that to her. Four times before the age of nine that is insane, it is so incredibly wrong. I feel this big swell of emotion in my chest before I am even fully aware of what I am doing. I am holding her tightly in my arms. I can feel myself not wanting to let her go.  
I am scared by how much I love her already, and how much she means to me. It’s only been two days and already I am terrified of the possibility of her getting hurt, or sick or being with a boy. I don’t want anyone or anything to ever happen to her ever I will take down anyone who even thinks about hurting her “I love you, baby.” I say simply, and quietly, kissing her on the top of the head.

“I love you too dad.” She replies quietly I smile hearing her confirm what I already knew that it is great when your daughter says she loves you back. I then reluctantly let go of her.

Joe looks at us. “Barry, I think you are missing one incredibly important question, if she is no longer a spy, why was she at the diner and her father’s business?" Opps, that question must have gotten lost in the other 50 million questions that are asking themselves all at once in my head right now. That is a really good question though I look over at Mallory, who looks conflicted about answering this question, Joe and I exchange looks he had noticed it also.

The question hangs in the air for several minutes. Joe and I watch her go back and forth about the best way to answer the question. “All right,” she says, letting out what appears to be all manner in her lungs. “About 2 o’clock in the morning I get a call from one of my former contacts, they said they had gotten in a little too far over their head, and that they were in desperate need of my help and expertise because that case was related to one of the cases I had worked on shortly before I left my agency. They asked me to meet them at the diner, which was the usual meeting spot where we used to do business. They sounded really freaked out, so I went just to give them some information and help them out.

We got ambushed by four men and tactical gear and carrying assault rifles. We exchanged a couple of rounds with the gunman and they drove away. We left the diner because we didn’t want to compromise the mission. It’s vital to international security and no, I can’t tell you what it is because technically speaking, I’m not even supposed to know what it is. Anyway, we left and went to Kelsey Drive Industries because I had left the files related to the last case, I worked on in a secret compartment in my father’s office and my files were needed to see the list of suspects from the case. Apparently the men had followed us to the building without my knowledge and we ended up having to fight them." She finishes answering the question.

Hold on, she got ambushed, shot at, chased and beat up. Joe and I look at her astounded. “Is this true?" I say in a state of shock. She nods and puts her hand over mine. “You are not going to continue, doing this sweetheart, you are done with this mission,” I say firmly determined in my stance on this issue.

She pouts at me, “but daddy, the bad guys have already seen me so they’re going to come after me, no matter what, and besides my friend is going to need help and I owe them one. Plus, you get to do your superhero thing and I have more experience with bad guys than you do. Are you really going to let 7 ½ years of training and work go to waste? International security dad. The world needs me to do this for as long as I can.” She whines and begs, she is incredibly good at this, so good, that it is actually kind of scary.

She certainly doesn’t need any assistance from anyone in that regard. But then something that completely knocks me for a loop happens. “She does have a point!" Joe says, snickering at me a little at how this is playing out. He is clearly enjoying this a lot more than I want him to. For real, Joe, I think I can’t believe that he is taking her side when he fought with me for weeks about me becoming The Flash and I am 25 and have super speed. Yet he thinks it’s acceptable for his 16-year-old granddaughter to be a spy. Unbelievable. This is unbelievable. “When the universe wants something to happen. It has a way of working those things out." Joe adds more evidence to the let Mallory be a spy side of the argument.

“Don’t forget God!” Mallory says, looking at me sweetly.

 

Great, just great. Now I’m up against an incredibly cute acting daughter, my dad, God, and the universe. I should just quit while I’m ahead. “Okay, fine. You can continue being a spy.” I say, conceding to all my opposition against my better judgment.

Mallory’s eyes light up and she smiles a huge smile of victory. “Thank you, dad. I love you so much.” She tells me, making sure to stay on sweetness overload before crashing into me for a massive hug.

“I love you too, Mallory,” I say as I happily return the hug once I release her and she is in a comfortable position. I change my facial expression “because I love you, there will have to be ground rules or protocols, so I can make sure you stay safe.” She laughs, then nods. “First of all, you cannot leave on a mission without informing one of us or someone we trust that knows about me being the flash, meaning Caitlin, Cisco or Doctor Wells." I tell her, feeling extremely awkward in my new position, laying down the law.   
She tries to hide it, but I can’t help but notice how she shifts uncomfortably and begins shaking slightly when I mentioned Doctor Wells. This puzzles me, but I shake it off as merely a coincidence. I then turn to my dad. “This is all your fault, and if anything happens to her. I blame you."   
He just smiles back. “You think I’m being funny, but I’m serious.” I say, frustrated that he is not taking it as seriously as I am.

“Chill, Bear nothing bad is going to happen to her. She has years and years of experience, and she is also your daughter and my granddaughter, so she is a glorified butt- kicking machine." Dad says calmly, how is he being so calm about this? Is it possible that he knew about this beforehand?

“Yeah, dad have a little faith in me!” She says smiling. Once again, dad is not helping the situation at hand. I think that’s why he is doing it. I think he enjoys messing with me.

“I have nothing but faith in you Mallory" I say, she looks at me like she’s waiting for the inevitable but in that sentence. “It’s just the other people that I don’t have much trust in, you know, the international terrorist organizations and drug lords and mob bosses and corrupt politicians.” I say, hoping to make sure she knows that I believe in her. Is she rolling her eyes at me? Oh my gosh she is. I give her a disapproving look and she just laughs, which just makes me laugh.

My cell phone rings. “Good morning, Barry, we’ve got a new meta-human, and she is ready to party.” Cisco’s voice says excitedly as soon as I pick up the phone. “And bring super baby, Caitlin and Doctor wells and I want to run some tests on her to see if she is a meta-human too." I can almost feel him wince as he listens to what he just said, “and get to know her too." He says quickly trying to erase the weirdness of what he had just said.

I hang up the phone. “Central City needs The Flash” I say, no matter how many times I do this excited. “I’m going to Star Labs; they want you to come as well.” I say directing the statement to my daughter.

“Okay, I just need to get dressed first.” She says as I help get off the couch and ready to go. I use my super speed to get her dressed, having super speed is a good thing because this makes it less awkward. She looks impeccably dressed as always, she has a good sense of style which she definitely did not inherit from me. She is wearing a purple top and Navy skirt with matching heels, she grabs a pair of flats to put in her bag, “they want to run tests on me to see if I have abilities, right?” She asks. But the tone in her voice makes this out as a statement rather than the question.

“Yes, I think so.” I say, giving her confirmation, although I doubt she needs any. She nods quickly as if she was expecting the answer. “What is the change of shoes for?” I ask her curiously as she searches for something in her purse madly and then appears to find it.  
She smiles mischievously. “For later.” She says simply, before holding up the item she was searching for. I have to do a double take when I see what she is holding it’s a leg holster for a Glock that looks like a garter “just like this.” She says as she puts it on and then slides the gun into its proper place. She then readjusts her skirt. She sees the look on my face. “Don’t worry dad, I’m not planning anything. It’s just in case” I have a feeling that “just in case” really means “more than likely going to happen.”

Mallory’s Point of View.

We are in Star Labs in a matter of seconds. We are in the cortex the same area where I woke up. All three members of the team are present, but Doctor Wells is the first to notice our arrival. “Good morning, Mister Allen and the newly discovered Miss Allen, I trust last night went well.” He says, greeting us warmly with a hint of a smile  
. I’m a spy. I am trained to read people, discern people, get a detailed picture of a person’s character in a matter of seconds to be able to get what is needed from a person to best serve the United States government or sometimes the world. My deductive skills have gotten to such a point and are so innately ingrained in my being at this point that I can’t turn it off. I am constantly deducing things about the people and situations around me all the time and I have a very high accuracy in doing so. When I look at Harrison Wells I know that something is off, he is paying extra attention to his body language, his words even his breathing. It is almost like he’s afraid that deduction is going on so he is taking great care to present a certain set of things. It’s a manufactured read though not natural which means he is hiding something.

Cisco and Caitlin turn around in their chairs. Cisco gets up and walks over to me when and smiles. “Mallory, you look hot today!” Oh my gosh, did he actually just say that everyone immediately looks at him in disbelief. “I mean; you look pretty good.” He says, trying to correct his faux pas. We cringe again. “I mean, you look pretty,” he babbles nervously, we stare at him.  
“Mister Ramon, you are digging yourself a pretty large hole. Might I suggest that you walk away before things can get any worse!” Doctor Wells says clearly interested in ending this extremely awkward conversation. Cisco nods, mutters an apology to my dad and goes to sit down at his desk. “Now that we’ve gotten that incident behind us, Mr. Allen kindly go and save the city from a human bomb.” He says, offering the polite version of get your butt out of here to my dad.

My dad changes into his suit/uniform. “I love you, Mallory, have fun. Okay,” I nod. He gives me a kiss before speeding out the door.

Once my dad leaves, the team surrounds me, and Dr. wells starts talking. “As you know, Mallory, the particle accelerator explosion gave your father, amazing abilities.” He pauses briefly and Cisco mouths, they are powers. He then continues, “these abilities/powers change your father at a cellular level, meaning that his “stuff” may be able to pass on new abilities/powers to any offspring and we would like to test you to see if this is true or not.” I nod, “do you have any objections to us doing this.” I shake my head no, but it is so nice to be asked. “Excellent,” he offers me a big smile and I offer him one back, hoping to keep things amicable between us until I can find out what’s really going on.

“Okay, Mallory, what we are going to do is inject you with something that will activate any genes you have that would lead to abilities.” Cisco and Caitlin inform me.  
She is about to inject me when Dr. Wells says, “stop" they look at him in confusion. “The genes have already been activated." I look at him astonished and somewhat scared. “Mallory. Tell me what I am thinking right now." How am I supposed to do that? I think, and then suddenly I can hear voices, their voices inside my head. Although no one is saying anything. “You’re thinking about my accelerated healing" I breathe out amazed at myself.

“That is correct, Miss Allen, just for fun, let’s try something to prove that was not a lucky shot, or that I am just that easy to read. Everyone think of one word only rule is; it has to be an actual word in the English language. No tricking her.” Everyone nods in agreement. “Whenever you’re ready Miss Allen," he says patiently waiting.  
Everyone’s voices fill my head, and I’m not talking about just the three of them. I mean hundreds and thousands and millions and billions of voices. I can hear the whole world at once. I take a minute to focus in on the specific voices that I need to hear “enigma, for you, Dr. wells.” I say, smiling, and he smiles back, letting me know that I am correct, I then turn to face Caitlin and Cisco, who is impatiently tapping his foot. “Miracle, for Caitlin," she nods. “Xavier for you. Cisco and yes, I do understand the reference” his face lights up like a Christmas tree.

 

“At the rate you heal you and your father are more than likely immortal" he says. I must not look surprised enough, because he asks, “But you knew that already, didn’t you?"   
He is intrigued, all of them are they pull up chairs and sit around me like it’s story time in kindergarten. “That’s what happens when an agency tries to shoot you in the head, and the bullet goes through your brain and you don’t die. When you wake up in a hospital room with 10 of the world’s best doctors looking at your MRI, which shows no visible trauma, except for the damage incurred by the aneurysm you suffered when you are three hours old. Then there is the shouting and every test known to man being done on you, all of which concludes that your cells are regenerating at such a rapid rate that nothing known to man can kill you. There is not one thing in the world’s vast and hastily growing arsenal that can kill you, not even old age."

They look at me with awe and admiration, and slight pity. Cisco looks at me and is the first to speak. “What happened then, you said something about an agency trying to kill you, what was that about?" His mind practically exploding with questions for me that demanded answers.

I decide to tell them because I’m technically back in the game anyway. “There was this “national security summit" held a few days later in Washington DC. Really, it was just to talk about me and what they wanted to do.” I take a pause before continuing. They all look at me genuinely interested and slightly afraid “they wanted me under contractual obligation to the United States government, as part of this agreement, I would only act when the government deemed it necessary and I would not be able to participate in any situation without government consent without being reprimanded. They wanted a lifetime guarantee, which in my case, means forever.”

They shake their heads. “Please don’t tell me you signed that agreement!" Dr. Wells says earnestly they all have horrified looks on their faces.

“No, of course not. I mean, I love America and everything, but I am also aware that they, like every other country in the world have a secret agenda, and I don’t want to be a part of that.”. 

Everyone seems to calm down and then Dr. Wells seems to have a jarring thought, “did you by any chance meet a man called General Wade Eileen?" He seems nervous rushing the words out of his mouth. General Wade Eileen, of course, how could I forget the man that was the most intent on that contract being signed, and was less than cordial when I refused to sign the agreement. But why did that matter now? “Miss Allen,” his voice snapping in a panic. “Are you all right?"

The urgency in his voice tells me that I should answer. “Yes, Dr. wells. I know General Eileen, ” I answer him in a clear, straightforward way.

My answer causes the panicked expression on his face to grow and spread around the room. “And I am guessing that he was less than cordial to you when you refused to sign the agreement.” He states the question like a confirmed fact, one that we both know to be true.

“If that’s what you call threatening to put a person on the FBI’s most wanted list and make their life a living Jason Bourne film and hunt you down until you are compliant, then yes.” I say sarcastically with a little bit of a laugh.

This causes him and everyone else in the room to laugh before the mood turns dark and almost dangerously serious. “Of course Eileen couldn’t act on his threats because of your mothers and fathers enormous influence, and wealth, not to mention the exposure to media" he then pauses and adjusts slightly. He pursues his lips, takes a deep breath. “But now, now that your parents are gone.…" There is a noticeable hesitation.  
I know what it means “he’ll try to fulfill his promise." I finish his statement point-blank, putting in an extraordinary amount of effort to keep myself from laughing or crying, this has been a whirlwind the past day and a half man has it only been a day and a half, and it shows no signs of slowing down round and round it goes, where it stops nobody knows.

“That is correct, Miss Allen and unfortunately for you, it is only going to get a heck of a lot worse.” He says to me evenly, he’s kidding right, right? The longer I look at his face more I can tell he’s not kidding.   
“Great, because I was just now starting to calm down from the whole being stabbed and searched and interrogated only to be shot at, chased ambushed and beat harder than a piñata, 17 hours later thing! I was just saying how nice it would be if I can get some more action like that in!” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. The team gives me confused looks. It is then I realized they had no idea about my former endeavors and employers being the US government. "It is an insanely long story, but the short of it is I used to be a spy.”  
Cisco is the first to recover “oh my gosh, seriously,” he asks, I nod. “This is awesome you are my hero.” He says excitedly clapping his hands like a kid in a candy store. 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Ramon you don’t have time to fanboy out, but because we have more pressing matters at hand with this General Eileen business.” Dr. Wells says curtly. The way he says that is serious, somewhat harsh, but very effective.   
Cisco looks slightly stunned at the directness of Dr. Wells, but quickly recovers and nods, and with that Dr. Wells turns to exit the center room. Out of curiosity, I decide to follow him. I stay back a little way before approaching him, I decide to go with the “confused intern" routine, that one seemed the most relatable to the current situation. “Dr. Wells," I call doing my best to sound awkward and uncomfortable with the current situation.   
He stops in the doorway of his office and looks at me. “Yes, Miss Allen" there is a slight hint of inpatients in his voice and in his eyes there is a hint of something that I cannot place. He backs up from the doorway to let me into his office. I go inside, not only because in order for the situation to continue, I must go inside, but because I want an opportunity to try and get a better read on him. 

His office is immaculate, spotless, completely organized, perhaps a little too much. I park my chair beside his desk. He closes the door and I hear the lock engage. He then moves and parks his chair on the right-hand side of me. “Miss Allen" his voice is quiet, yet it startled me. I wasn’t aware in till this moment that I had totally zoned out. He laughs slightly at my reaction. “I’m not that scary, am I?” He asks playfully I shake my head, “no,” when on the inside. I am thinking yes, yes, 1 billion times, yes, you are giving me all kinds of creepy vibes and red flags. “Anyway, what was your question?” He asked, returning to his normal serious tone.

“Um…" I struggle to find my train of thought. I then find it in a pile of "burning questions,” that have entered my brain, in the last 24 hours. “How exactly is Gen. Eileen connected to this case?" He gives me a funny look. “You never did explain" I say, hoping I am maintaining a clear and even tone. I make it a point to maintain constant eye contact with him not staring him down, but firmly enough, so he knows that I am serious.

Dr. Wells for his part, is or does a good job pretending to be taken aback by the tenacity in which I asked this question, the expression on his face so close so real that I almost don’t catch the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips that disappears a millisecond afterwards. He breathes deep and exhales. “As fate would have it, the meta-human that your father is currently hunting down has a relationship with General Eileen.” The facts are laid out. I start to get this feeling in my gut that he knows more than he is letting on. So I try my new ability of reading minds and I am met with a brick wall, he is blocking off his thoughts, and it is hurting me. I don’t know how he is doing it. “Anything else Miss Allen,” he asks kindly, smiling ever so slightly at me.

I debate for a while about what to say, but then decide to go for the direct approach. “I know you’re hiding something!” I say coolly and confidently.

Call me crazy, but I was expecting some kind of push back some sort of “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” or other bull crap like that. His face drops and he nods. “You’re right, Mallory, I am hiding something, in fact, I am hiding many things.” His smile widens, as he looks into my eyes. “I am a man of many interests and endeavors, some flawed, some failed and some successes, but working with Gen. Eileen was perhaps my greatest failure in my life, aside from the particle accelerator explosion” he says, dropping his head in shame.

“What were you working on?” I do this, partly out of curiosity, and partly because Gen. Eileen to reputation with advanced technology is quite scary because he’s definitely got one or two screws loose.

A look of shame forms on Dr. Wells’ face, he takes a deep breath. “I suppose I should tell you before Gen. Eileen does it for me.”. He backs out from his desk and goes to one of the filing cabinets in his office produces a file from the top door and heads back to his desk.

I am very confused by this resignation and raise an eyebrow. “Why does it matter? This has nothing to do with me.” Impertinence and confusion clear in my voice, and in my mannerisms patience has never really been one of my virtues.

I am sitting directly across from him. He stares at the file for several minutes, saying he looks intent to burn a hole through it. He then looks up at me with a somber luck and a melancholy smile. “It has everything to do with you Miss Allen,” the confusion in my eyes quickly intensifies tenfold.   
He passes the file to me as soon as I see it, my mind explodes into 20,000 more questions! There on the file is printed Ross, Mallory. I don’t ask, I never ask when things have my name on them, I open it, inside is everything about me, pictures of me from all stages of life, my medical history, psych evaluations, mission reports. I look up at him and try to keep calm. “How the heck do you have a file on me?”

He goes around to sit beside me. “About two years ago Star Labs was granted a contract with the American government, in particular the Department of Defense.” I look at him impatiently wanting him to continue. “Gen. Eileen was interested in enhancing the human race to give us an advantage in fighting the War on Terror, enhanced strength, speed, durability and telepathy for enhanced interrogation techniques. I was interested only for the potential benefits for humanity as a whole. Throughout our experiment we found that there was this particular gene that could be stimulated by something to produce superhuman capabilities. 

General Eileen started to suspect you have the gene after your performance review. He brought me this vile of your blood and had me personally test it. It came back that you did have the gene and not only that, but it was active. He became obsessed with the idea of a superhero army to protect the earth and do America’s bidding when I saw how obsessed he had gotten. I pulled the plug, I refused any more government funding and I told him that if he ever wanted the files that I would testify in court about some of his dirtier dealings. I was a fool to believe that he would not be able to find some other scientists who would be willing to trade their souls for a paycheck." The note of disgust in his voice seems genuinely real “after that I packed up all the files in the project and put them in here. And never visited them again until the meta-humans started appearing after the particle accelerator explosion. Most of the people that became meta-humans have that gene, " with that he finishes looking at me, waiting for me to say something.

“You knew about me the whole entire time?" He nods, "about everything?” I ask with a bit of an edge in my voice and raising one eyebrow. He looks confused. I narrowed my eyes and say “did you know that Barry was my dad?"

At this question, he tenses up there is some noticeable hesitation before he says, “yes, Miss Allen" he sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes, I did know that Mr. Allen was your father, but I didn’t tell him, because you were adopted and it seemed like you were relativelysafe as I neverr could have guessed that your father’s rival, would find out who you are and come after you and kill your parents."

I shake my head. That’s the trouble with the reality. You can’t always get what you want, you can never know who to trust and in reality you never know who is pulling the strings and there are no do overs. “Just one more question, dark matter is the stuff that activates the gene right and the only way to create dark matter is through a particle accelerator explosion..." I trail off.

Dr. wells immediately noticed what I am insinuating “Miss Allen, if you are insinuating that I caused the particle accelerator explosion on purpose to create the meta-humans. I can assure you I did not, I am not a good man by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m not an insane power-hungry bloodthirsty idiot like General Eileen" he has obviously taken great offense to the fact that I speculated that about him. 

I shrug and turn to leave when he reaches out his hand and grabs my arm, stopping me from leaving. I look at him in annoyance and confusion. His grip as surprisingly strong. “Miss Allen. I truly think that it may be in your best interest, as well as the best interest of everyone in the building, if you go home and are not here when Gen. Eileen arrives.” I look at him, appalled is he seriously asking me to go home and lay down when someone is after me? 

He continues, “to Eileen you are the single most important person in the world. That means you need to go because he will stop at nothing to get you at this point. Mallory, if he sees your new abilities that has the potential to be very catastrophic and we don’t want him finding out your dad is a meta-human with superspeed. Which probably means he doesn’t need to be here either.” I say nothing to him just head toward the cortex.

At that moment my dad returns as we make our way back to the cortex, we hear something along the lines of “my suit went kaboom!" In a very frustrated Cisco sounding voice.

My dad smiles when he sees me. “Hey, Mallory Cisco told me what you can do that is so awesome and so scary at the same time.” His smile is quickly taken away when he sees the look on my face. “Mallory, what’s wrong?" He asks me quietly walking towards me, bending down to look into my eyes and placing a hand on my cheek. “Are you okay, baby?"   
I lean into his touch and nod slowly. “Yes, dad, I’m fine. I promise.” My voice is still slightly shaky on account of the information I had learned just moments before. My dad looks at me slightly skeptical, "but we are about to have problems… Major problems.” My dad and the rest of the gang, except for Dr. wells look at me with confusion and interest. “I have a very complicated relationship with Gen. Eileen, meaning he’s obsessed with me.” I say quickly trying to explain it to the rest of the team.

Dad looks shell-shocked, Caitlin shakes her head uncomprehendingly and Cisco raises his hand. “mmh, yeah, I have just got the real quick question, are you going to become a superhero and help us kick some major bad guy butt? Please say yes. Please say yes.” He begs, causing me to laugh and smile and nod. “Yes!" He says, leaping out of his chair with unbridled excitement. “Hold on, I will be right back. I will be right back. I just have to go get something for you real fast, don’t move." He says in a serious tone, before laughing and smiling. “This is going to be epic you’re going to love it." With that, he leaves the room to go off and get whatever it is, and I share a nervous glance with my father, who looks just about as nervous as I am. “Okay, Mallory, are you ready for this?" Cisco asks excitedly, I don’t know. Am I ready for this? What exactly is this?

“Yes. Cisco. I think I am ready for this.” He brings a plastic mannequin around that has exact dimensions on the mannequin is a very feminine looking version of my father’s suit essentially, it’s a dark purple catsuit with a highly corseted top that actually looks really pretty cool. “My lady, may I present to you your very own suit made by yours truly, what do you think? "Cisco asks anxiously.

To prolong his anxiety, I raise an eyebrow. “mm... I don’t know.” I tease him playfully his shoulders droop and he sighs sadly. I laugh and smile. “I’m kidding Cisco, it’s perfect. I love it.” I give him a hug and he relaxes, I can’t help it. I have to do it. It’s imperative “just like you.” I whisper to him; he turns bright red.

“I’ve got a question; why does it have to be so tight?" My dad is not sounding too thrilled about the about the formfitting design of this outfit.

Cisco looks like a deer caught in the headlights. I decide I have to step in and save him. “Dad, he’s protecting my vital organs by compressing them. It allows more room to take damage without you know dying." I use my expert voice to make it sound like I know what I’m doing, and it’s totally legit."

Dad doesn’t look like he believed me. However, he decides to let it go. “Miss Allen, I would recommend you get in your suit before the crew from M. A. S. H., shows up.” Dr. wells suggest in the same way he asked my father to get his butt out the door earlier. I decide that’s a good idea and put on the suit.

When I walk into the cortex wearing my uniform Cisco places something in my hands. “I almost forgot this is part of it.” I look down and see a mask with the same color purple, as my suit with silver glitter accents. A smile forms across my face. “I figured we couldn’t have people knowing your real identity with the you being the former daughter of two rich billionaires as well as the current daughter of the cities forensic scientist people might get suspicious. I mean, it may not work on Gen. Eileen, but it will work for later.”  
I decide to put the mask on anyway so I can get the full effect of my outfit. “What do you think?” I asked backing up to let him see the outfit in full.

He looks me up and down a few times and then puts his hand on his head. “I honestly can’t think of an answer to that question that doesn’t get me in trouble!” He is blushing again. This time however it is tomato red.

This causes me to smile again. “Thank you, Cisco for everything,” he smiles. “You know what, come here.” And with that I give him a kiss on his cheek, making sure to leave a lipstick mark.

He smiles widely and touches his cheek. "Anytime, Mind Maiden" I give him an inquisitive look. “It’s your superhero name.” He says with a nervous laugh.

I smile widely. “I like it.” He smiles back at me before turning back around to face the computer.

His eyes widen in shock and fear the second he sees the screen. “Um, guys, I hope you’re ready for this because Gen. Eileen just arrived with 30 of his closest goons and they are packing some very heavy artillery, and I’m talking like Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare level stuff!” Cisco informs me, panic rising steadily in his voice.

I know what I have to do. I turn to my dad, “dad, get them out of here, take them as far away as possible, and stay with them." I tell him he gives me a pained look. “Dad, please do it. He will only use human them as leverage to force me to come with him.” He gives me a huge look of protest, but then sighs and nods. “Don’t worry dad. I’ll be fine. I got this.”

Dad walks over to me. “I love you.” He says, giving me a hug.

“I love you too.” I whisper as I return the hug. “Now go," I tell him playfully pushing him away. He grabs Caitlin Cisco and Dr. wells in a matter of seconds before speeding off. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I hope!   
The elevator opens general Eileen and his crew of presumably brainwashed soldiers step off the elevator. They are in a four – two – five formation, meaning four people in the front, two people in the middle and five people in the back for the first two groups and the last group is holding a three-two -three formation. General Eileen is in front of them. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mallory Ross, long time no see!" He says, clapping his hands, then he looks me up and down. “Nice outfit, it really makes your eyes pop"

“Not nearly long enough Eileen and do you have nothing better to do then be obsessed with and ogle at teenager?" I tease him, although I’m really starting to wonder if it is true.

The general looks less than amused at my comments, but doesn’t answer them. “Look, Mallory, why don’t we just do things the easy way and you bring your pretty little self over here and come with us ." He says, invitingly and slimily as he signals his men to lower their weapons. “Come on, Mallory, you know it’s the right thing to do.” He says baiting me. 

I laugh. “No thanks, I’m not interested in any deal that had your name written anywhere in it or takes away my free will. Besides, we both know you can’t kill me. Plus, I’m going to guess your acting outside the law on this one, meaning anything you do here will get reported to the president and you will lose your job, just like you’ve lost everything else." I say, causing him to glare at me. “Come on Eileen you know it’s in the best interest of everyone, especially those on your side if you just admit you’ve got nothing to play and walk out of here,” his glare intensifies at me.

“Fine, have it your way” he says, turning to his troops. “Shoot her, shoot her now!” Gen. Eileen orders of them. They all ready their weapons and fire. I put my hands up to stop the bullets out of instinct. Then everything stops, no literally everything stops the bullets freeze a few inches from my body held in suspended animation. I look around to see the whole entire room is like this. Almost like it’s frozen… Wait a minute… Did I just… I think I did… Holy crap I froze time! I quickly slide myself and everything else valuable out of the way.   
Now the million-dollar question is how do you unfreeze time. Okay, Mallory, let’s think about this logically I was thinking how I needed time to stop when it stopped, so maybe I just think I don’t know resume or go to get time moving again. It’s worth a shot. And sure enough, it works.

Eileen and his men look extremely confused. “You didn’t tell them who I was, did you?” Eileen’s men shake their heads. I laugh warmly enjoying this ever so slightly and roll my eyes. “Of course you didn’t,” I laugh a little more. “Okay gentlemen, let me introduce myself. My name is Mallory Nora Allen, formerly known as Special Agent Mallory Ross and no you are not crazy. What you just saw actually did happen because in addition to being a former secret agent to the United States government, I am also an immortal with superpowers and general Eileen has been hunting me down against numerous orders from the President of the United States to stand down when I was forced into retirement after refusing to sign the now infamous order 64." I say with a bit of a smirk.

Immediately all of his men drop their weapons and walk out of the building, leaving only General Eileen and me. “This isn’t over, Miss Allen!” He says defiantly.

I just smile and reply calmly, “oh, I think it is General Eileen” his cell phone rings, his face pales and I know I am correct he gives me one more quick glare before taking the call and exiting the building.

My dad then speeds up into the room. “Mallory, how did you get this done so fast?" My dad partially asked partly exclaims, sounding very impressed.

“New ability… Pretty cool. I’ll tell you about it later " I tell my dad happily

“That’s awesome, Joe invited Iris and Eddie over for dinner over for dinner, so we should probably get going in for going to be there on time. Hey, wait, are you okay because you don’t look okay? He asks, tenderly bending down to take off my mask. As soon as he sees my face. He says, “you are sick, have you been sick this whole time?" I feel fine. What is he talking about?  
“Dad, nothing is wrong with me. I feel perfectly fine.” I say highly confused by this situation.  
“Don’t lie to me sweetheart.” I’m very confused, I am not lying. He looks in my dad eyes, “ you still don’t look like you feel very good at all. Come here,” I do as I’m told, although I am still not understanding what exactly is going on here. "You feel warm. I think you might have a fever.” He frowns. “I’m going to call Grandpa and tell him that he may have to cancel the dinner with Eddie and Iris." 

Oh, okay, that’s what’s going on here. I get it. Dad does not want to have dinner with Iris and Eddie because of what happened last night! I get it. I get it. I totally get it, but it’s not like he can avoid her forever. I say her and not them because I don’t think that Eddie is the problem. I think it’s more Iris that he is trying to avoid probably for dream preservation reasons. If he doesn’t see her, he doesn’t have to see that she won’t approve of me being his daughter even with the fake explanation which means I doubt she will accept the real one. So him avoiding her is his way of keeping this fantasy alive. It’s a fairly good plan, aside from the fact that it’s not sustainable. However, now it’s time to fulfill my job as the reality check. “Dad, you know, you can’t avoid her forever.”  
Dad looks at me with a confused look on his face. “Honey, what are you talking about, I’m not avoiding anyone! I think your fever is making you have trouble with reality.” He puts his hand on my forehand. “Yep, I’m totally calling Joe, there’s no way we can have that dinner." He says, getting out his phone, seriously.

Okay, I guess we’re doing this the long way around. That’s fine. I can play the game as well. “Dad stop. We both know that this is about Iris, and what happened yesterday.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Look dad. I hate to break it to you but you and Iris are never going to get together, I mean at some point in the future or in the past. It’s really complicated the point is at some point you will time travel to the past and meet my mother and have me and I don’t think you would do that if you and Iris were together." Dad looks up at me, with sad eyes that makes me hate myself, but he looks like he’s slowly come to realize the fact. “But that doesn’t mean you can avoid her forever… You and her are family which means we all will have to find a way to live with each other, even if she can’t accept me because that’s what family does.” I say, concluding my reality check/peptalk.

“How did you get to be so wise?” My dad asked me a mix of sarcasm in awe in his voice.

I laugh. “Let’s just say I have some experience in that department. You know the kind of dysfunctional family, you get when your uncles and aunts are jealous of your father’s success and are always yelling at him to get a bigger stake in the company." I say, before grabbing his hand. “Come on, dad, we are going to be late for dinner and I’m hungry.”

We reach the house in a matter of minutes when we entered the house, we see that Iris, and Eddie are already at the table with Joe. I take my seat at the table next to dad and across from Iris. “Hey, Mallory did you have a good day at Star Labs with your dad?" Eddie says kindly trying to make small talk and keep the situation, lighthearted, and friendly which I appreciate greatly.

“Yes I did, Eddie, thank you for asking.” I say having a smile on my face that is, until I see Iris’s face is hosting an icy glare that would rival the Ice Queen from Narnia that is aimed directly at me, I instantly look down and focus on nothing but and keeping my mouth closed except for when I am inserting the food that is on my plate into my mouth.

The dinner continues as normal, since I have elected to play the quiet game with myself and so far I am winning. The conversation has shifted from work to the city’s new construction and nightlife. There have been no major arguments or blowups from anyone at the table and I am almost done eating, so I am about to put this in the one in the win column. When Eddie asks, “so, Barry, what school is Mallory going to?”

My dad smiles clearly unaware of the impending explosion that is going to occur as soon as he answers the question “actually, Mallory’s not going to school because due to her private tutoring that she received because of her parents. She graduated two years early and is currently pursuing her doctoral degree in forensic psychology online at Harvard University on a full academic scholarship." He says proudly beaming at Eddie, his mouth has dropped and he is now mouthing the word, doctorate my dad continue smiling and nods. Iris has dropped her fork in her plate and it makes a clanging sound.  
Here it comes braced for impact. “Of course she is… Because she’s perfect" she says in a agitated voice. “Mallory, Mallory, Mallory, can you all just shut up about Mallory… She’s annoying and even more than that it is wrong. It is just plain wrong. She doesn’t need to be a daughter to someone who is 25. Especially you." She says angrily, I feel my dad’s hand latch onto mine protectively under the table, “this just for the record, is the craziest family in the city." Can’t argue with her, there and with that she storms off. Eddie cast an apologetic look our way, mixed with one of shock, before picking up his jacket and running off after her.

Well that went well. I start regretting not letting dad cancel dinner. Dad and grandpa exchange saddened as they clean up the table. Dad gets a call on his cell phone. “On my way.” He says, before hanging up the phone. “Apparently the human bomb has decided to blow up the waterfront, so I will be right back.” My dad says, before speeding off to take on the methuman he faced earlier who blew up his suit apparently. 

Grandpa and I just smile and shake our heads going to the living room to watch a movie about halfway through the movie, I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. “Sweetheart, do you want to go to bed?” Grandpa asks me , I nod sleepily, which causes grandpa to laugh. “Come on, I’ll take you to bed, but bear in mind, I work at regular human speed." He offers and jokes causing me to give him a smile.

However, just as he is about to pick me up. My cell phone rings and I immediately cringe knowing exactly who it is, that’s calling me. James Anderson, seriously, what is it with the universe and me sleeping. I sigh and hold up my finger telling my grandpa to wait as I reluctantly answer the phone. I already know where this conversation is going blah, blah, blah… International security blah, blah, blah… Urgent… Meet me at the airport in 20 minutes or less… International flight… Private Jet… Don’t tell anyone what we are doing there, you know, the usual stuff . “Hello, James, where are we going? And we are leaving immediately right. I thought so, see you soon!"   
I hang up the phone. “Okay, so I’m going to take a rain check on that whole sleeping thing because my contact is called and we need to leave for England like right now.” Sure, it would have been nice to sleep, but that’s okay, I can sleep when I’m dead.. Oh that’s right, I can’t. Oh well. Grandpa looks incredibly confused, but nods. “I need you to get my go bag and drive me to the airport.” He returns with my bag and loads me in the car.

“You may want to call your father and tell him that you’re going out of the country." Grandpa says once we are officially on the road.

I give him a look. “But he only said that I had to tell one of you. Plus, he’s at work.” I protest, not wanting to get his reaction.

“Mallory, trust me, you should call him.” I sigh, I know deep down, he’s probably right.   
I pick up the phone to my surprise he answers, as soon as I dial the number “Mallory, what’s wrong? I’m on my way home right now, but what is wrong?” He questions me literally talking at 1,000,000 mph.

You see, this is exactly what I was afraid of. “Dad, calm down.” His panic seems to lessen when he hears me the even tone in my voice. “But I am in the car on the way to the airport to go to England for an unspecified amount of time.”

“What !” Dad’s voice is escalating into disbelief. At this moment we have pulled up to the airport and I see James is waiting for me.

 

“Look dad, I have to go, I’ll call you later, as soon as I get off the plane. I love you bye.” I say quickly hanging up the phone before he can protest. Grandpa gets me out of the car and helps me with my bag.

As soon as I am successfully out of the car. James walks over to me and takes my bag from Joe “excuse me, who are you?" The arrival of the James has clearly puzzled my grandpa. It has also caused him to go into protection mode as he puts one arm around my back.

James smiles and laughs. “There’s no need to be alarmed Detective West, my name is Special Agent James Anderson of MI6, and I’m your granddaughter’s contact we will be going on this mission together.”

My grandpa eyes him warily with an air of distrust playing on his face and he tightens his grip on my shoulder. “Aren’t you a little young to be a secret agent?"

At this comment James’ smile broadens “I could say the same thing about your granddaughter, but Detective West. I can assure you I am legit" jams promises my grandfather, but my grandfather still has that suspicious look on his face. “Here," James says as he hands my grandfather, his badge from MI6. My grandfather examines it seems to come to the conclusion that it’s real causing him to hand it back to James and release hold on me. “Now if you will forgive us, we have to get going.” James says, I give my grandfather a kiss on the cheek and he gets in the car and waves goodbye. James puts his arm around me as the go to the boarding platform for his private jet and I can hear my grandfather going “hmm.”

We board the plane in a matter of seconds. Once inside, I find my seat and start yawing. “Love, are you really that tired?" Well, I haven’t slept in almost 36 hours. So yes, I am exhausted. “You are, aren’t you?" He asks a very rhetorical question, he gets up from his seat across from me and returned a few seconds later with a blanket. He gently wraps it around me, “go to sleep, darling, we’ve got a long flight, so you should be able to get a good amount of sleep," he kisses me on the head, and sits back down in the seat beside. I almost instantly close my eyes, and go to sleep.


End file.
